My Brother's Keeper
by Otterling
Summary: It looks like Gabriel and Castiel are back and in trouble. Now Dean, Bobby, and Sam must face a horde of demons to rescue a captured Gabriel while dealing with Castiel's condition. Can they save him when Cas becomes the next target of the demons?
1. Chapter 1: What a Mess

**My Brother's Keeper**

**Author:** Otterling

**A/N:** This is VERY AU so just go with it. It's set after the end of season 5 but in this universe, Sam is back and the boys are back to the whole hunting thing again. I am happily ignoring the "let's throw in a minor love interest for Dean that we've only ever met in one episode and thus don't care about" thing so if you're a Lisa fan, sorry. :/

The usual stuff applies here. I don't own any of these characters. This was just a plot bug caught in my head. Also, there will be a lot of WTF moments in here. Just bear in mind I will explain them all in due time so bear with me. ;)

**Warnings:** Violence and language. Also, there will be COPIOUS amounts of adorable in here. Be warned.

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"It's gonna be ok," Sam urged in whispered tones as he drew in tighter around the trembling bundle in his arms. Small fingers curled into the soft material of his t-shirt and he tried not to think about how dirty and grungy that t-shirt was honestly as he scooted further into the open sewer drain he was currently hiding in. The child clinging to him didn't seem to notice though, or more accurately, he didn't much care. Castiel wasn't the sort to complain very often as an adult and his juvenile self had proven just as unflappable with the minor exception that he was scared of demons. Not that Sam could really blame him. As an adult Cas could have wiped out half of these creeps without breaking a sweat but as a child, he lacked the same amount of grace and thus was easy prey for the legions of hell who were all too eager to get their proverbial claws on him. Apparently angel babies were considered a delicacy in hell. Sam shuddered at the thought and tried to push that mental image aside.

They just had to hold out, he told himself. Dean was no doubt on the way and would be there with the cavalry any time now though the thought of his brother running headlong into a throng of demons controlled by the horrifying monster he'd just escaped from wasn't exactly comforting. Sam could only have faith in his brother's abilities. Dean was a grade A hunter and he would think of something. The muted flutter of wings caught his attention and Sam glanced down at the tiny form pressed against his chest. He gently tugged on the oversized plaid shirt Castiel was wrapped in and carefully tucked it up around his friend's shoulders to hide the soft glow of light that surrounded the tiny appendages protruding from his back. He couldn't risk the light catching the wrong sort of attention and giving them away despite the fact that he hated covering the little wings. It was the only set of actual angel's wings he'd ever seen or ever would for that matter and he had come to enjoy the sight.

The sound of approaching footsteps had Sam scooting silently into the darkness around him, sliding ever further into the dank pipe he was hiding in. His jeans were soaked with water, his hands shaking with the cold of the air below ground, but the point of light in all of that darkness was Castiel, who wordlessly shifted to let Sam carry him farther away from danger. The child radiated heat in a way that reminded Sam of sitting in a window in summertime with the sunlight pouring over him and it renewed his silent vow that he'd die before he let the demons get to his friend. "Damn it, Gabriel," Sam muttered under his breath. Perhaps it wasn't fair to lay the blame for this odd situation squarely on the archangel's shoulders since the demon's arrival wasn't his fault, but Castiel's current condition certainly was and that was good enough for Sam. He half wondered if Dean was going to kill Gabe when he finally got to him. Sam was heavily considering the possibility himself as his mind turned back to the events of the last week that had brought him to this point.


	2. Chapter 2: What the HELL?

**My Brother's Keeper**

**Author:** Otterling

**A/N:** Just a random aside here, I don't have a beta for this at the moment, so I apologize that these chapters are just sort of running out of my head and onto paper. _

The usual stuff applies here. I don't own any of these characters. This was just a plot bug caught in my head. _

**Warnings:** Violence and language. Also, there will be COPIOUS amounts of adorable in here. Be warned.

CHAPTER 2!

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**ONE WEEK PREVIOUS:**

It was 12:59pm when all the power in the small town of Alamance, NC died. Dean and Sam were sitting at a small rickety table in a diner that had seen better days when the lights flickered and the warbling voice of Patsy Cline on the corner jukebox came to a sudden stop. The haggard looking waitress, who had been serving them two platefuls of what Sam could only assume was the living picture of a coronary in progress, actually looked interested for the first time since the two of them had walked in. Dean was pretty sure it was the first time she'd looked interested in anything in her life. The older Winchester peeled his eyes away from the plate of watery mashed potatoes in front of him to glance out the window. The afternoon sun was beating down on the weathered old street outside without so much as a single cloud in sight. Strange then that the power outage seemed to have affected the whole strip.

Dean looked up to find Sam giving him a meaningful if concerned stare and as the waitress moved away mumbling something about calling the power company, Dean put on a smile that somehow failed to reach his eyes. "'S probably just some idiot plowing their truck into a pole somewhere, Sammy," he said as he poked disinterestedly at the charred steak sitting in front of him. The comment was meant to reassure his brother though Dean hated to admit to himself that it was just as much to comfort his own uneasiness. He'd been understandably jumpy about any strange weather patterns or large scale power outages since the whole apocalypse thing ended. The two of them were healing both inside and out from the whole ordeal and as the days had turned into months with no more sign of demons, Dean had slowly learned to relax. Still, on occasion, he'd find himself waking up with a scream in his throat and a desperate need to make sure Sam was still asleep in the other bed but things had gotten slowly better over time and a whole year had passed since they had laid the devil to rest.

The younger Winchester didn't look convinced but he returned the smile with one of his own and turned his attention to his plate of so called food. "Yeah," he said softly, "car accident." It was a sad thing, as far as Sam was concerned, when the idea of a mangled vehicle was a lot better than the alternatives but he couldn't help but hope it was true. He'd had more than his fill of demons and angels, with the only notable exception being Castiel. Thought admittedly, Sam was sort of glad he hadn't seen even him since the night Cas had pulled Sam back from the pit and handed him over to Dean. There hadn't been much in the way of words what with Sam trying to find his feet enough to make it into Bobby's livingroom and Dean fretting over him like a mother hen. By the time everyone had looked up, Castiel was gone again and Dean had only muttered the word "typical" before tending to his brother. They hadn't really mentioned angels or demons around each other since then but secretly Sam had said a small thank you prayer to Cas that night. It was, he felt, the least he could do for the person that pulled him out of hell.

The boys eventually gave up on trying to finish their meals at the diner after a half an hour was spent trying to actually identify anything on the plates and for once Sam didn't argue when Dean said that drive-thru sounded like a good idea. The smell of grease soaked wrappers and french-fries filled the impala a short while later as the hunters pulled back into the parking lot of their cheap hotel. Sam's arms were full with a large plastic bag overflowing with mini hamburgers, napkins, and enough packets of ketchup to choke a horse. "Dean, what's the point of getting these things if you're just going to coat them in enough condiments to mask the taste anyway? Why not just suck the ketchup right out of the package?" Sam held aloft one of the offending foil packets.

"Because the meat just gives me the illusion of having ketchup I can chew," Dean said with a grin as he climbed out of the car.

"Dean, they HAVE ketchup you can chew. It's called a _tomato_."

Dean paused on his way to the hotel door and looked back at Sam with mock confusion. "You mean those things they keep putting on my burgers that make it hard to keep the ketchup on?" He smiled mischievously as Sam just rolled his eyes. "No thanks, Sammy, I'll stick to my vegetables being pureed and stuffed with enough preservatives to mummify my insides, thank you." Dean unlocked the door to their room and promptly stopped as soon as he set foot inside. His gun was in his hand in the blink of an eye and he could hear Sam pull up short behind him. He had no doubt his little brother was already pulling his own weapon and would have his back if things got ugly. Dean swept his gun before him as he edged in further and took in the sight that waited for them. The room was a mess. Thick lines were burnt into the walls in a spiderweb pattern of intersecting scorch marks, furniture was upturned and even in some cases all but obliterated. The bathroom sink had been utterly shattered into little more than dust and one of the two beds in the room had been completely flipped over, its mattress leaning against a corner haphazardly. The scent of ozone still hung thick in the air, under scored by a tang of copper, and every single electronic device in the room looked like it had spontaneously exploded while a thick pattern of dark red smeared the walls and carpet in a spray that would have put Pollack to shame.

Dean shifted through the mess with an ease born of practice as he cleared the room to make sure there weren't any lingering opponents. "What the hell happened in here?" breathed Sam from just inside the doorway, "it looks like world war three was started in our room."

Dean took in all the evidence and slowly holstered his gun. "You might not be far off," he grumbled, kicking at an overturned lamp, "from the looks of it, I'd say Gabriel is back and was paying us a visit." Sam shot his brother a look of mild confusion and Dean pointed angrily at the only remaining bed which looked like it had been plucked straight from an eight year old girl's room. "You know anyone else who would sneak into our hotel room and put My Little Pony sheets on our beds?" Sam groaned and dropped the bag of food onto the only chair that remained of their small kitchenette.

"Well if it was Gabriel then something interrupted him. The pony sheets are definitely him," Sam said with obvious distaste, "but it doesn't make sense that he'd make the beds up this way only to then destroy the whole room."

Dean shrugged. "Angel sized temper tantrum?" he offered optimistically though even he knew it was grasping at straws. Gabriel wasn't the "tear apart a room in a fit of anger" kind of guy. He was more the "kill you over and over again in many many ways just to prove a point" kind. That and Dean doubted the angel would leave without both he and Sammy knowing who it was that had played the trick and why. Gabe liked getting credit for his inventive uses of angelic power and he would no doubt want to let the brothers know that he'd returned from the dead in the most outrageous and obnoxious way possible.

"I don't think so, Dean," Sam said as he took in all the damage, his gaze falling and lingering on the spray of red at his feet. "If it was…then who is painted all over our walls and floor?" He shot a nervous look in Dean's direction. He was pretty sure neither of them really wanted to know who all that blood belonged to. As much as Gabriel could be a massive pain in the ass, neither brother really wanted to think of him being torn to ribbons. He'd already been killed once on their account and neither brother wanted to consider what kind of creature was wandering around that could have shredded an archangel. Dean opened his mouth to respond but paused before the words could form as his eyes scanned across the room once more and fell upon a soft light emanating from under the remaining bed. He gestured to Sam to let him know he'd found something and then drew his weapon as he crouched down.

Dean leaned heavily on one shoulder to peer under the bed with his weapon in one hand while he used the other to pull up the covers. There, hidden among a plethora of dust bunnies and lost fingernail clippings was a large oblong lump that was pulsing with a gentle white glow. He narrowed his eyes at it and considered his options for a minute before tentatively reaching out and giving it a quick poke. The object was hard to the touch and didn't stir at his prodding so Dean threw caution to the wind and began carefully scooting it in his direction. It was wedged fairly tightly under the mattress and as it came free from the dark recess of the bed at last, Dean sat up and stared in complete confusion. Sam moved up behind him and watched from over his shoulder. "What…what IS that?" Sam said with a note of awe. Dean tucked his gun away and carefully reached out to lift the glowing orb. It was heavier than he expected and strangely warm to the touch.

"Hell if I know," Dean mumbled as he turned the strange pulsing orb over in his hands. It was slightly smaller than a dodgeball and one end was a little more narrow than the other.

"It looks kinda like an egg," Sam offered helpfully, at which point Dean set the orb right back down and stepped away from it, drawing his gun as he went. "What are you **doing**?" Sam cried out as he grabbed Dean's arm, "What, you're just going to SHOOT it?"

Dean yanked his arm free and spun to face his brother. "YES, Sam, I'm going to shoot it. And do you know WHY? Because every freakin' alien movie starts this way. Only this thing was left here after what looks like a hell of an archangel battle royal. I'm getting rid of this thing before it hatches and lays eggs in our throats."

Sam huffed angrily and stepped around Dean to snatch the egg up from the floor. "We can't just kill it, Dean. We don't even know what it is yet," he said as he examined the strange egg.

"Oh, I promise we can kill it," Dean offered helpfully, waving his gun for emphasis. "Besides, what else are we gonna do with it? Sit on it and see if it hatches? Make a massive glow in the dark omelet? Let's just destroy the damned thing and get the hell out of here before whatever did this comes back. For all we know it's that thing's mommy."

It was obvious from Sam's fascinated expression though that he wasn't even paying attention to Dean anymore. He was slowly turning the egg over and over in his hands, watching the pearly light it cast across his skin. "Dean, we can't just kill it until we know what it is. If it hatches and it's a monster, then we can kill it. Otherwise, I don't feel right just splattering the thing without knowing. I mean, what if Gabe left this here? It was hidden, right? What if he came here to tell us about this and got attacked?"

Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose and tried to remind himself that he didn't REALLY want to shoot his own brother. "Fine," he grumbled eventually, "but YOU'RE egg-sitting till that thing spawns." With that, Dean turned on his heel and snatched the bag of hamburgers from the kitchen as he made his way back out to the car with Sam and egg in tow.

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**A/N: **Reviews are love. I'd like to know if people are enjoying this and don't hesitate to offer critisism as long as it's constructive. I can't grow as a writer if I don't realize I'm doing something wrong. ;)


	3. Chapter 3: Unforeseen reunions

**My Brother's Keeper**

**Author:** Otterling

**A/N: **Still no beta and this chapter was written on 3 hours sleep so I'm sorry if it's a tad long…and stuff. _

The usual stuff applies here. I don't own any of these characters. This was just a plot bug caught in my head. _

**Warnings:** Violence and language. Also, there will be COPIOUS amounts of adorable in here. Be warned.

Chapter 3: Unforeseen reunions

The winding back country roads of North Carolina were still and silent, nestled between rows of thick trees and overgrown brush, and Dean guided the impala down them at top speed, putting as much distance as possible between them and the scene they'd come across at the hotel. He stared straight ahead out of the windshield, trying his best to ignore the seat next to him and the disturbing glow that was coming from the passenger side of the car. "Sammy, if we're gonna take that damned thing with us, at least cover it up. It's screwing with my night vision," he growled before cranking the radio a little higher and thus making it clear that he wasn't interested in this turning into a conversation again. He and Sam had argued no less than five times already since they'd started driving and that was a little under four hours ago. Dean's head was pounding from all the yelling but he firmly decided that the Metallica blasting out of his speakers was infinitely preferable to going around in circles again with his stubborn brother.

No matter what he said, Dean simply couldn't convince Sam that taking the egg with them was a bad idea. He couldn't help feeling uneasy about keeping a glowing ball that could break open any moment to reveal soul crushing horror but Sam wouldn't part with it. He glanced over when he caught movement in his periphery and watched as Sam peeled off his plaid over-shirt. The pissy expression on Sam's face faded away as he carefully wrapped the fabric around the glowing ball cradled in his lap and Dean turned his attention back to the road, satisfied for the moment that he'd at least won this small victory.

The younger Winchester paused in his wrapping and peered intently down at the last remaining spot he had yet to cover, his hand hovering with a flap of fabric dangling from it as he tried to shield the light from reaching Dean's side of the car. Sam ran his fingers over the delicate shell with his free hand and watched as the light played under the surface. He had found himself strangely enraptured ever since they'd found the egg and he'd taken to staring intently at it when he wasn't busy fending off Dean's attempts to eject it from the car. It wasn't that he wasn't aware of the danger really, it was just that he couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't some hellspawn waiting to hatch and eat his face. What self respecting demon would hatch from pearly glowing eggs after all? Though he had to admit that he wasn't sure just what WOULD hatch from it. Dean had even made the rather snide suggestion that it was a radioactive ostrich during one of their arguments. Sam, for his part, didn't much care what was inside the egg, he was simply determined to give it a chance. Afterall, if Gabriel _had_ brought it to their room and something big enough to take the archangel out had shown up looking for it, then it was a pretty safe bet that whatever was inside the egg was fairly important.

Sam folded the last of the cloth around the egg, throwing the inside of the car into relative darkness once more, and settled in for the long drive. He knew Dean wouldn't want to stop until they had put some good distance behind them and they had settled on heading west for Little Rock, Arkansas. The drive would take them several hours, placing them at their destination sometime in the wee hours of morning and Sam knew he could look forward to the entire drive being filled with tense silence. He was surprised then when Dean spoke up suddenly. "Bertie the goldfish," he stated flatly, "do you remember that? Dad had been hunting in West Virginia, a poltergeist I think, and we were staying in that little hotel with the fugly green curtains?"

Sam snorted in amusement and turned slightly in his seat to look at Dean. "Yeah. I remember you melted that bowl on the radiator trying to make oatmeal and the whole room stank like burnt plastic for a week. You took me to that little pet store on the corner and promised to buy me one of those 25 cent goldfish if I didn't tell dad about it." A nostalgic grin split Sam's face and he leaned back against the window. He'd been so happy to have that tiny spark of vibrant orange swimming around in a little plastic bag as they'd walked back to the hotel. He had cradled it to his chest the whole way, afraid he'd drop it but he wouldn't let Dean carry it either. He had wanted so badly to show Dean and his father that he could take care of a pet if only they'd let him have one. The life of a hunter had not afforded them the ability to have any animals growing up and it had been one of the greater regrets of Sam's childhood. He'd named it Bertie, a strange mashing of Bert and Ernie, and had happily watched it swim for hours in the shallow cereal bowl that they'd found to put it in. "I remember Dad made me give it away at the end of the week when we were leaving too," Sam said a little more bitterly than he meant to, "So what brought that up?"

Dean shot his brother a sidelong glance. "Bertie," he said grumpily, "It's a stupid ass name for a goldfish. This thing hatches, I'M naming it. I'm not gonna wind up walking around a hellhound named 'Peaches' for christ's sake. And if it pees in my car, I'll kill you."

Sam grinned from ear to ear at his brother's rant. The first thing Dean would do when he knew he was losing an argument was to start making ridiculous demands in an attempt to give himself some sense of control over the situation. Sam was all too happy to let him do it. "Deal," he said happily. Dean seemed to relax some at that and the tension in the air faded away for the rest of the drive.

It was around 3am before the brothers finally pulled into the parking lot below the dull red glow of a sign advertising a vacancy. Dean took care of getting the room while Sam waited outside with the egg nestled in his lap and by the time they finally got inside, both were too tired to take more than a fleeting glance at the décor before shuffling to their respective beds. Sam gently set the egg, still wrapped in his shirt, into the nook formed by his pillows and turned to find Dean already making his way for the bathroom. It wasn't worth arguing over who would shower first so he waited until the water started running and then pulled out his cell phone to call Bobby. A gruff voice thick with sleep finally answered after the fifth ring and Sam uttered a few quick apologies before filling Bobby in on the details of the hotel room, the power outage, and the finding of the strange glowing egg. After being called a few choice names for being dumb enough to carry the egg in his lap the whole drive, Sam finally hung up with Bobby who had promised to do some research on whether there was any religious lore out there for glowing orbs.

He flopped down next to the egg and found himself pulling away the fabric before he even realized what he was going. He had a driving desire to hold it again and watch the light play over its surface and it wasn't until the egg was once more perched in his hands that Sam realized why he was so fascinated with it. There was an odd sense of peace that seemed to wash over him as he held it, as if just being in contact with the egg was somehow comforting and as he stared at the pearly light, the memories of all the horrors he'd seen faded to the back of his mind. He could even swear that the egg had gotten hotter since they'd found it and the palms of his hands had begun to sweat a little by the time Dean emerged from the shower.

"You keep playing with that, you're gonna go blind," Dean quipped as he flopped down on his own bed.

"Funny," Sam snorted. He got up and crossed the short distance to the other bed where he offered the egg to a less than enthusiastic Dean. "Here, I'm gonna go take a shower real quick."

"Dude, I am NOT taking that. Just set it on your bed. It's not gonna wander off on its own."

Sam frowned. "Dean, it's an egg. It probably needs to stay warm. Just put it next to you. I'll be out in a few minutes."

Dean grumbled something unintelligible under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "chuck it out the damned window" but he snatched the egg from Sam's grip regardless, shooting his brother a highly displeased look as Sam wandered off toward the bathroom. Once the other door had shut and Dean found himself alone with the egg, he leaned back against his pillows and dropped it unceremoniously onto the comforter next to him. He snatched up the remote and flicked on the small television, intent on just passing the time watching something fairly mindless until Sam was done, but after only a few minutes he felt something nudge against his side. Dean slowly peeled his eyes from the infomercial where he had happily been watching a well built blonde as she demonstrated a machine touted for strengthening thigh muscles and let his gaze fall to the egg at his side. "Please tell me that was my imagination," he breathed softly. Much to his dismay, the egg shifted again.

Dean was off the bed in a heartbeat, gun in hand as he stared at the bed's sole occupant. The Egg shuddered lightly and rolled a half inch across the comforter before stilling once more. "Oh HELL no," Dean muttered, "SAM!" The water continued to run in the next room and Dean doubted his brother had even heard him. His eyes stayed locked on the egg which had stopped moving entirely by then and after another few long moments, he dared to approach it again. He bumped it gently with the back of his left hand, his gun still tightly gripped in his right but the egg didn't stir again. Dean let out a slow breath he didn't realize he was holding and re-holstered his weapon. He bumped it lightly one more time and then finally braved picking it up. "Look, I'll make you a deal. You just stay in there until Sam gets out and I won't shoot you, ok?" The egg simply sat still in his hands and for a moment Dean felt a little silly for trying to bargain with it but a moment later it shuddered again and a large crack rent it down the middle.

Dean held the offending object at an arm's length and watched with trepidation as the crack grew larger until at last it spiderwebbed across the whole surface. With a final soft crackling sound, the shell popped apart and a small fleshy bundle emerged at last. Dean stared at it open mouthed for a few seconds as it yawned and stretched and then tiny eyelids fluttered for a moment before opening to reveal brilliant blue eyes beneath a thick mat of soft dark hair. Confusion set into every pore of Dean's being as he stared at what looked like an infant boy still half cradled in the remnants of its shell, bright eyes staring out at him from a soft chubby face. "Uh….ok. Definitely not an ostrich." Dean gently set the child and the remaining bits of shell onto his bed and watched with interest as the boy tried to struggle the rest of the way out of his confines which had ceased glowing by then. His eyes widened as the infant finally pulled itself free and revealed two small shafts of light that streaked down his back. They seemed to shiver for a moment and then finally unfurled to reveal two tiny wings that appeared to be made of the same golden white light that had been coming from the egg before it had hatched.

The infant tottered for a moment on all fours before flopping over and turning those large curious eyes back in Dean's direction. The boy looked a little older than a normal newborn and Dean would have placed him around a month old or more had he seen the kid under any other circumstances. As it was, Dean wasn't quite sure WHAT to make of the little boy now staring intently at him. It was obvious the child was an angel as Dean couldn't think of anything else that would have wings made out of light, but he had to admit he was dumbfounded as to why, if this was an angel, he wasn't blinded already just from looking at it. The little boy cocked his head in a way that reminded Dean of a small bird and the hunter couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. The way the kid was looking at him sort of reminded Dean of…

"Cas?"


	4. Chapter 4: Two Men and an Angel

**A/N: **Ok, folks! Another chapter worked up. This one is pretty much fluff but don't worry, I have plans to get the action going again soon. For now, enjoy adorableness.

Also, thank you so much to all those who have reviewed! You help make writing this a lot more fun. ^_^

Supernatural belongs to Kripke. I own nothing.

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**Chapter 4: Two men and an angel**

Dean's eyes went wide as saucers and he felt like his heart had just stopped for a moment as he met the unblinking stare leveled at him. The boy looked startlingly like the angel that had helped them out numerous times with his mat of dark fluffy hair and those keen blue eyes that Dean had come to know so well. "Not possible," he breathed, "not freakin' possible." The boy seemed just as genuinely confounded by the whole situation as the hunter was and the small wings fluttered uncertainly as the boy looked over his new surroundings. Dean's mind was racing a mile a minute as he tried to puzzle together exactly what he was seeing. The child sitting in front of him certainly shared many of the same traits that he'd come to associate with his friend Cas but he knew that the form the angel took around him and his brother was only a vessel and that his true form was one very few humans could even look upon. The blue eyes and dark tousled hair he'd come to recognize actually belonged to a man named Jimmy Novak and as far as Dean was aware, Jimmy had never hatched out of an egg. If this was indeed Castiel, why wasn't he some glowing ball of pure light that was burning out Dean's retinas from the moment that shell cracked? Instead, Dean was faced with what looked for all intents and purposes like a normal human infant, save for the glowing appendages periodically fluttering on his back.

"Ok, this is surreal." Dean eased down to sit on the bed, studiously avoiding the fragments of shell that littered his comforter. He couldn't take his eyes off the cherubic face that was turned in his direction. His friend was a powerful angel of the Lord, not the poster child for extremely soft toilet paper that was sitting in front of him but Dean couldn't shake the feeling that there was something horribly familiar about the way the infant kept tilting his head. The baby prodded at the covers under him with chubby little fingers and then turned its attention to a few nearby remnants of shell. "Cas…man, what the hell happened to you?" Dean whispered. The infant ignored him in favor of turning to look at the tv that was still playing in the background. Dean wasn't sure if that was a sign that maybe he was entirely wrong about his assumption. After all, surely there were other angels in heaven with hosts that had dark hair and blue eyes, right? "Castiel," he said again with a little more authority. Much to Dean's surprise and dismay, the infant turned its head in his direction and small pink lips curved up into a shy smile. One hand stretched out eagerly in Dean's direction accompanied by a high nasal grunt that suggested a desire to be held, something Dean wasn't sure he was quite ready for yet. He closed his eyes with a few choice curses and rubbed the bridge of his nose but when he looked up again, Castiel was still holding out his tiny arms expectantly with a patience that certainly had never belonged to any human child that age.

Dean sighed in defeat and got up to rifle through his duffle bag, emerging shortly thereafter with a well worn t-shirt. It was one of his favorites, having been washed so many times that the cotton fabric had become thin and comfy, and he laid it out on the bed next to where Cas was sprawled. "You pee on this, man, and we ain't friends anymore," Dean warned. Castiel blinked up at him with a puzzled expression and then repeated his gesture of outstretched arms though admittedly with more uncertainty this time. Dean reached down and carefully lifted the infant, settling him in the center of the t-shirt before tucking the folds of loose fabric around him into a neat cocoon. Castiel looked utterly perplexed by this action but didn't fuss about it and instead settled for looking expectantly at the man hovering over him. He was rewarded a moment later when Dean finally picked up the whole bundle and brought it to his shoulder and after a few seconds of wriggling within the confines of the t-shirt, Cas managed to get one arm free which he promptly used to grab hold on Dean's clothing. He tucked his head under the stubbled chin above him and curled himself as much as possible into the hollow of Dean's collarbone.

Memories of holding his infant brother flashed through Dean's mind as he cradled the warm parcel in his arms and a sad smile pulled at one corner of his lips. Things had been much simpler in those days even if they hadn't seemed like it at the time. He had practically raised Sammy while their father was out hunting and he could remember many nights spent feeding and rocking his brother to sleep with a .45 at his side just in case. The child in his arms wasn't Sam though and the reality of the situation came sinking back in. What kind of creature could have done something like this and why? He'd only just begun to try wrapping his brain around those questions, giving himself a lovely headache in the process, when the bathroom door opened and Sam stepped out with a towel around his waist. "Forgot to grab clean clothes," he said sheepishly as he entered the room. The words died on his lips as he gawked at Dean, his eyes flicking to the shattered egg shell still scattered across his brother's bed and then to the infant clinging to Dean's shirt. "Is…is that…did we just hatch a baby?" he finally stammered.

"WE didn't hatch anything," Dean snarked, "You left me out here to fend for myself."

Sam raised an eyebrow and gestured toward the baby in Dean's arms. "Oh yeah, looks like it was a horrible fight. Sorry about that." Sarcasm dripped off every word but it was quickly replaced with a lopsided grin as Sam approached to take a closer look. "He's cute. See? Now aren't you glad we didn't shoot him?" He reached out to smooth down a wayward lock of downy hair.

"It's Cas." Dean's voice was flat and entirely un-amused, sinking home the realization that he wasn't joking in the least and Sam's hand froze in mid-air. His eyes widened and he looked from Dean to the infant again as he tried to process what he'd just been told. Sure enough, the face staring up at him, while infinitely younger than the person he knew, bore a striking resemblance to the very angel that had pulled him out of hell itself.

"Are you serious? I mean, how do you know that? Dean, Cas is thousands of years old.."

"I KNOW," Dean stated emphatically, "Something musta happened to him. Hell if I know what. I mean, look at him! What the hell are we dealing with that can potentially _kill_ an archangel and turn Cas into an egg?"

Sam didn't have an answer and they both knew it. Truthfully, the very idea scared the crap out of them both. "Well…I called Bobby while you were in the shower. I guess I better call him back and let him know that we know what the egg is now. Maybe he can dig up something on what kind of demon could do this."

Dean nodded and rubbed his eyes, stifling a yawn. It was almost four in the morning by that point and both brothers were exhausted but he wasn't sure he could sleep knowing that something out there had potentially offed an archangel and then turned his friend into a baby, all within the confines of their hotel room. They were going to need sleep however if they were going to be in any shape to make the drive up to Bobby's place and that was precisely where they needed to head in Dean's opinion. Sam agreed, snatched up his clothes along with his cellphone and returned to the bathroom to get dressed and call Bobby back. Dean halfheartedly swept the eggshell from his bed, supporting Castiel with one hand as he did so, and then tugged back his covers to crawl in. He wasn't quite sure what arrangement they were going to make as far as where Cas was going to sleep that night but Dean knew he needed to catch at least a few hours if he was going to be any use at all the next day. He scooted down until he was laying flat, shifting Castiel until the angel was laying on his chest, and then bunkered down to wait for Sam to emerge. He had intended to work out a sleeping arrangement where one of them would watch Cas while the other rested but the bundle on his chest was warm and he found his eyelids drooping heavily after a few minutes. Castiel didn't stir in the least as Dean's head began to nod and by the time Sam came back out the bathroom, the infant angel was bobbing slowly up and down with each deep snore Dean was taking.

The next morning Dean finally opened his eyes to find sunlight pouring in through the crack in the heavy drapes. He had barely moved an inch during his sleep and he reached up to rub groggily at his eyes. The weight on his chest brought reality crashing back in around him and Dean blinked the last of the sleep away as he looked down to find Castiel perched up on his elbows, blue eyes watching him intently. A frown creased Dean's brow and he rubbed at his eyes again. He could swear Cas had gotten bigger while he was sleeping. The angel was still an infant but he looked as if he'd aged a good two months over night and he now had the strength to prop himself up to some extent. Maybe that was a good sign. Perhaps the spell that had turned Castiel into a child in the first place had a time limit, Dean thought, and the idea of that took a little of the tension out of the situation. A yawn forced its way out of the older Winchester and he stretched as much as he could without rolling his friend off of his chest. The almost inaudible flap of wings caught Dean's attention and he found Castiel quirking his head again as he watched the hunter wake. The t-shirt he had been swaddled in had come undone during the night and the diminutive wings were once again exposed to the air. It struck Dean that they were almost the same color as the sunlight pouring through the curtains, as if someone had carved a chunk of the morning off and strapped it to the angel's back, and it earned the infant a reticent smile. As much as Dean hated to admit it, Cas was pretty damn adorable this way.

Within the span of fifteen minutes, the Winchesters were once more on the road, Dean having rushed Sam through getting ready with the lure of breakfast on the go. He had been grateful for the fact that Castiel had sat contentedly on the bed without needing monitoring while the brothers hurriedly packed and brushed their teeth, even if it was slightly disquieting the way the infant didn't make any noise. There was no crying from hunger, no demand for attention other than the initial request to be picked up that had been issued the night before, and no sign of an accident having happened to Dean's t-shirt during the night. In fact, outside of initial appearances, Castiel wasn't acting like any baby Dean had ever seen. As they headed out of town, Dean glanced over to the passenger seat where Sam was holding Castiel in his lap. The child was practically drowning in the gray t-shirt since Dean had decided to pull it on over his head instead of just wrapping him in it like a blanket. The collar was so large on the little angel that his whole left shoulder was jutting out of it along with one shimmering wing which Sam was staring at with a dumbfounded look on his face. He had finally seen the wings just that morning and had been rather pissy that Dean had missed pointing out that rather large detail _before_ he had called Bobby back.

Now he sat watching with utter fascination as the wing fluttered every now and then. It seemed to Sam that the wings showed more of the angel's emotions than his face ever did and he half wondered if the same were true for Castiel as an adult. If he could see the grown wings of his friend, would they be just as much of an indicator? The wing would flutter just slightly when a song came on too loud or when they would pass something large enough for the infant to see it from his vantage point. They also tended to flicker just slightly any time Dean started talking and to Sam it was as much an indicator as anything that the child was listening intently. He wasn't sure how much of their friend still remained in the infant sitting in his lap but the child's rare requests to be picked up for no other reason than to be held indicated that Casitel's mind had not remained an adult when his body had been changed. Sam doubted the adult Castiel had ever been hugged in his life and it actually drew a slight chuckle out of him when he thought of Cas asking someone to do so. As he sat smiling down at the child silently examining his seat belt with an earnestness no three month old baby should posses, it occurred to Sam again just how odd it was that Cas had retained a human vessel even after having been turned into a child. Even stranger was the fact that the wings were now visible when they hadn't been before.

Curiosity reared up in Sam's brain as he watched the light flicker again. Were the wings solid? Were there actual feathers that were simply glowing too bright to make out any individual one? His hand paused to hover over the angel as he reached for the little wing, uncertain how Castiel would react to having them examined more closely, but he decided that the infant hadn't raised a fuss so far and so closed his fingers ever so gently around the source of the light. Castiel made a high pitched unhappy noise and the wing jerked loose from Sam's hand. "Ssh, it's ok. I'm not going to hurt them, I just wanna see, Cas." Sam tried to make his voice as soothing as possible as he reached for the appendage once again. They were definitely solid and as his fingers made contact a second time he could make out an incredibly downy set of feathers at the top curve of the wing giving way to longer, smoother ones below. His examination didn't last long however as Castiel once again plucked his wing free and looked up at Sam with an expression that said clearly he wasn't happy with the attention.

"Dude, would you stop harassing the angel already?" Dean interjected from the other side of the car, "He's gonna get big again at some point and trust me, you do NOT want to piss him off." Dean had learned the hard way that Castiel's heavenly patience had its limits and he'd paid the price for stepping too far outside of them once.

Sam snorted in amusement. "Yeah, I remember that. Nerd angels hit hard. Sorry, I won't do it again," he said by way of apology to the frazzled looking cherub in his lap before turning back to Dean. "They're solid, Dean. I thought Cas's wings were made out of light. Actually, I thought CAS was made out of light. Whatever it was that did this to him not only made him little, it made his wings turn flesh and bone too." His tone turned serious as he looked down again. It bothered him on several levels that this was the same being that had fought its way through hell itself to reclaim him from the pit after Lucifer had been sealed back in his cage and now his friend was barely managing to sit upright on his own. Sam wouldn't admit it out loud but he felt an obligation beyond just friendship to help Castiel return to his normal self.

"It's freakin me out too, Sammy," Dean said with a sigh. He shot a sideways look at where Castiel sat clinging to Sam's shirt with one hand while he peered down at the contents of the cup-holder between their seats. "You know he hasn't even pooped yet? He doesn't drool, he doesn't cry, he doesn't even freakin' eat. He's the weirdest damn baby I've ever seen."

"He's not really a baby, Dean," Sam offered helpfully, "he's an angel. Cas hardly ever ate when he was big. It makes sense that wouldn't change just because he's little now."

"Yeah, well, it's freaky," Dean repeated sullenly, "You used to throw up on me at least once a week when you were that age."

Sam laughed and leaned back in his seat, his arm wrapping around Cas in an unconscious gesture of protection which the angel happily curled into. "You _want_ him to throw up on you?" he asked with an incredulous chuckle.

"NO! I just want him to either act like a normal freakin' baby or grow back into an adult." Dean's proclamation was interrupted by his own stomach gurgling. "Speakin' of which, I'm starving. We're pulling over at the next rest stop."

"Sounds good to me." Sam reached down and tugged up the collar of Dean's shirt to once more envelop the wing that had slipped free but it didn't last long as Castiel tugged it back down a moment later. The angel craned his head up to cast Sam an unfathomable look and when the younger Winchester tried once more to cover the wing, he found his efforts thwarted as the angel spread his feathers out to make the task more difficult. Sighing in defeat, Sam left well enough alone. "You know, we're going to have to get him some different clothes, Dean. We can't take him into a restaurant wearing just your shirt. It's not like we can just explain away his wings to anyone who sees them."

"Yeah, good point," Dean mused as he pulled onto the exit ramp, "Ok, first things first. We go shopping, get Cas something to wear and _then_ go eat but let's make this quick, ok? I think my stomach is actually eating my spine."


	5. Chapter 5: Babes in Toyland

A/N: Sorry for the lack of update for two days. I won't always be able to update EVERY day but I hope you guys can forgive me. ;) I offer more adorable Castiel as payment.

And once again, THANK YOU SO MUCH to all the people who have offered support and kind words for this story! I'm flattered beyond words that this has gotten such love from some of you! ^_^

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Dean smiled up at the overly bright pastel sign announcing their arrival at "Babies-R-Us". Ridiculously bright cartoon animals decorated the entire outside of the building and a window cling depicting a purple hippo wearing a jacket was ushering them inside with an ear to ear grin. The hunter turned to regard his brother who was, at that moment, attempting to coax Castiel into letting him cover the wing currently hanging out of the top of his shirt. The little angel looked none to pleased by the fact that Sam had resorted to trying to gently stuff the feathers back under the shirt collar and he had put his small hands against Sam's arm as he twisted bodily away from the contact. "C'mon, Cas. Just…just let me tuck this away for a little while. I _promise_ I'll let you bring it right back out when we get back to the car," Sam pleaded. Dean snorted in amusement and headed back to his brother's aid.

"Move, I got this." Pushing Sam to one side, Dean knelt down by the passenger door to come face to face with Castiel. He reached out and pulled up the shirt, almost entirely lifting it off the child's head until the wing slipped back through the collar and then tugging it down quickly to trap the tiny appendage beneath it. Cas turned his head to peer over his shoulder but Dean didn't give him the time to pull the collar back down again. He swept the infant up and propped him against his chest, one hand flat against the angel's back to dissuade him from tugging on the cloth but by then Castiel seemed to have given the idea up anyway in favor of craning around to look at their surroundings instead. He twisted about, wide eyes taking in everything from the pavement beneath them to the garish storefront just ahead. "There, not so bad, right?" Dean said brightly, though it was obvious Cas wasn't paying him the least bit of attention.

"How did…" Sam gaped.

"Face it, Sammy, I'm just better at this than you," Dean said with a cocky smile. "After all, I practically _raised_ your sorry ass."

Sam shook his head incredulously and huffed a laugh. "Fine, then _you_ can take care of him from now on and _I'll _drive."

"No can do, Sam," Dean said as he headed inside, "You know the rules. Only way you're driving is if I'm too messed up to do it myself. Besides, this is good for ya. Builds character or something like that." He paused just over the threshold of the door and whistled. "Holy CRAP, that is a LOT of pastel." Rows upon rows of children's clothing stretched out ahead of him, their racks filled to the brim with tiny outfits of every conceivable pattern and size. Fluffy pink tulle skirts poked out from between miniature versions of prom dresses and tiny business suits meant for parents that Dean could only assume sent their maids to do the shopping and t-shirts of every variety hung in tidy rows, each with some Saturday morning tv star grinning stupidly out from the front of them. Tiny jeans hung in long blue lines of every shade known to man and there were enough fluffy footie pajamas to smother an elephant. Large cartoon footprints led in every direction, disappearing between the racks in a dizzying array of colors, interspersed with cardboard cutouts of the same mascots that decorated the outside of the store.

The walls and the tops of the racks of clothing had all been painted in pastel shades that covered the entire range of colors from lilacs to spring greens. To the left was an entire section devoted to furniture and buggies, while the right sported an enormous array of toys and books. Dean immediately swerved toward the right and began making a beeline for the rack holding little power wheels cars, a nostalgic grin plastered on his face. His momentum was halted as Sam grabbed his arm however and began dragging him bodily toward the clothing racks. The next half hour was spent sorting through the hangars with Dean vetoing almost anything Sam held up, usually with a snide comment about Cas 'looking like a dork' or being 'the gayest thing since Ken dolls were invented'. Eventually they settled on a few sets of plain dark jeans, a small leather jacket, and a few shirts consisting of a blue one Sam thought matched Cas's eyes, a red striped one Dean got to offset the sheer wrongness of dressing to match one's eyes, and a pack of little white t-shirts with no designs which were the only shirts both brothers were willing to agree on. Dean insisted that they get Cas the tiny set of black combat boots he'd found and Sam wasn't willing to argue it based solely on how happy they seemed to make his brother, a fact which, when pointed out, earned him a punch to the arm for saying it was "cute".

Castiel sat quietly throughout the whole exchange, his expression caught between confusion and fascination with everything around him. He turned to watch other parents as they walked by holding their own infants and started back in shock when a few of them began bawling for what appeared to be no apparent reason. His little head cocked to the side more than once and he kept looking expectantly at Dean as if the hunter were going to be able to explain all of it to him and when no answers seemed to be forthcoming, he would resign himself back to people watching. At last Dean headed toward the front, Sam in tow with an armload of clothes, and approached the first register. As the disinterested looking clerk rang up their purchases, Sam's attention fell on a nearby pile of stuffed animals and a smile lit over his face. He marched away leaving a confused Dean in his wake only to return a moment later triumphantly holding aloft a floppy white bunny sporting a set of angel wings. Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude, did you just grow ovaries or something? We are NOT getting him a stuffed bunny."

Sam scoffed and gestured toward the toy section. "What? You think at this age he's going to be riding a set of hotwheels? He's too young, Dean. Just let him see if he likes it." Sam held up the bunny in front of an obviously perplexed Castiel who stared at it blankly for a few moments.

"See? He doesn't like it. Besides, if he keeps growing at this rate, he might be old enough to ride the car by the end of the week," Dean pouted.

"He might not understand what to do with it," Sam offered helpfully, "it's not like he's really ever had toys before, you know?" He brought the bunny to his chest and offered it a quick hug while making sure Cas was watching. Dean swallowed down a snort.

"I would kill for a camera right now."

"Shut up, Dean."The older Winchester narrowly avoided being smacked with the stuffed animal before Sam offered the bunny once more toward Cas. After a few seconds spent staring at the toy, the angel finally reached out one uncertain hand for it, grabbing it by an ear and tugging it toward him in a mimicry of what Sam had done only moments before. His expression changed once the toy was against his cheek though. The rabbit had been made of an incredibly soft micro-material and his face sank into the white fluff until his nose was buried in it. He pulled back a bit startled and then repeated the experience again, this time coming up with a small but definitive smile. That smile changed back into confusion as Sam turned the rabbit to show him the plush wings that had been stitched onto the back of the toy. Castiel poked at them uncertainly at first and then firmly clenched onto the toy and wouldn't let go. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes at the victorious smile his brother was giving him as he snapped the tag off the toy and tossed it onto the counter.

The brothers headed back toward the car with their bags and once there, Sam climbed into the back seat to change Castiel into his new clothes while Dean drove them toward the nearest restaurant. By the time they arrived, Cas was fully dressed and Dean was willing to let go of the fact that he was wearing the blue shirt since Sam had also pulled on the little leather jacket over it to fully hide the angel's wings. The trio were met at the door by the waitress who went from flirting with Dean to instantly cooing over Castiel the moment Sam walked in. It was hard to tell who was unhappier about this, Dean who had been forgotten in favor of the waitress pelting Sam with questions about the infant, or Castiel who was shying away from the woman as she reached to ruffle his hair. Sam rescued them both by asking to be seated. The waitress guided them over to a corner booth, snagging a booster seat along the way as she rattled on about her niece and how many times she had done babysitting duty. Sam nodded and smiled indulgently while Dean sulked behind them and when the pretty young brunette finally left to fill their drink orders, he turned sharply to Sam. "Next time, I'M carrying Cas."

"What? WHY?"

"Dude, are you serious? Did you see that? He's a babe magnet. Chicks LOVE guys with little kids." Dean gestured to another table a few feet away where a group of ladies were taking turns glancing over at the brothers and giggling. "Look at 'em. They can't STOP looking over here. I'm telling ya, I take him into a bar and I'll walk out with more phone numbers than the yellow pages," he grinned.

Sam frowned as he settled Castiel into the booster seat beside him. "You are NOT taking him into a bar, Dean."

"What? Why not?"

"One, because he's an infant. You don't TAKE infants to bars. Two, because this isn't just some _kid_, Dean, this is CAS. We should be working on getting him back to normal, not using him as bait," Sam said irritably.

" I know it's Cas. And Cas, unlike my own brother, wouldn't have a problem helping me out here."

Sam threw Dean a scathing look to which the older Winchester could only toss up his hands and grumble the word "prude" under his breath before their waitress came rushing back over. Dean ordered the country special breakfast, Sam a simple fruit salad and, after some debate on the subject, they decided to get Castiel some applesauce to see if he would be willing to eat anything. Predictably, when the sauce was placed in front of him, the angel simply turned away from it to stare out the window again. Sam tried bringing a spoon of it to Cas's mouth but the child pulled away and stubbornly refused to take the offered food. Dean almost choked on his own food when Sam was reduced to making airplane noises in an attempt to lure Cas into eating. This earned him little more than another bewildered look from the angel who once more pushed the food aside while Dean wiped the tears from his face and doubled over in laughter. Sam tossed the spoon back into the bowl and scooted it across the table. "Fine," the younger hunter said, "you're the one that's so good with kids. See if _you_ can get him to eat it."

After finally catching his breath again, Dean reached out to take the baby as Sam hefted him over the table. He perched Castiel onto his knee and then took the spoon in hand, bringing it back to the angel's face but once again it was refused. Dean tried every trick he could think of that had always worked on Sam during his infancy but Castiel was proving far more stubborn than originally expected and he was quickly running out of ideas. His final attempt to simply pinch Castiel's nose shut until he had to open his mouth was stopped by an aghast Sam who apparently had issues with this tactic as being too close to child abuse. He was not in the least comforted when Dean assured him that he'd done this on countless occasions when Sam himself had been difficult.

Having finally given up on trying to make their resident angel eat anything, Dean turned back to his own breakfast while Castiel sat on his knee and watched with rapt attention as the hunter poured ketchup onto his homefries, hotsauce onto his eggs, and honey onto his biscuits. Jokingly, Dean held an empty honey packet in front of the child on his knee and shook his head when Castiel actually took it. The angel fiddled with crinkly wrapper for a minute but tugged his fingers away unhappily when they brushed over the tear at the top and the bubble of honey that had formed there. A thin sticky film coated the end of his index finger and he brought it to his mouth to remove the offending substance. Sam kicked Dean under the table to get his attention and jerked his chin toward the infant and when Dean looked down it was to find Castiel happily sucking on the wrapper. Sam snatched up a new packet of honey and tore it open before offering it across the table to Cas who set aside his empty one. He pulled the wrapper to his lips and began sucking on the contents inside, leaning back comfortably against Dean as he went back to staring out the window.

"Huh. Ok. That's freakin' weird," Dean piped up.

Sam nodded. "Yeah but at least he's eating something, ya know?" He plucked up another packet as Castiel finished his first and handed it to Dean. The brothers finished the rest of their meal in relative quiet with only the occasional need for Sam to fend off their waitress who apparently found it adorable that Castiel was perched in Dean's lap and they headed back to the car with pockets full of honey packets, intent on getting to Bobby's as soon as possible.

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**Elsewhere**:

The small farmhouse was set back from the road, its winding drive bordered by the wrecked cars that had spilled over from the junkyard out back. Somewhere a dog barked, hidden amongst the scrap metal but it was of no concern to the silent visitor waiting across the road. Within the domicile, it could make out the faint signature of the sole human occupant who was meandering from room to room but the old hunter wasn't the one it was waiting for. The man walked out onto the front porch and glanced around, his plaid shirt whipping about in the late summer breeze, and he tugged his cap lower onto his brow as he stepped off the last stair and walked toward the garage completely unaware of the eyes on him. Bobby Singer was perfectly safe from his unannounced visitor though, so long as he stayed out of the way when the time came. For now, the man was serving his purpose as bait. The creature knew the one it was seeking would eventually come here, would seek out the hunter's aid, and that predictability would make for easy prey. Then the hunter's use would be over and he would fall as well, torn limb from limb.

For now, it would wait. Its patience was infinite. If it was pressed to leave by other matters, then it had many minions at its command to complete the task. Regardless, soon it would have the one its master craved. The last piece of the puzzle. The elusive prey that had escaped them once.

Castiel.


	6. Chapter 6: Rocking the Cradle

**A/N**: WOOOO! ACTION SCENE! Ok, so this chapter is a lot longer than any of the others and I had to cut it off into a cliff hanger just so it wouldn't run on. That and I'm evil that way and like leaving you guys hanging and wanting more. XD 3 I hope this is as enjoyable as the cute scenes were. I promise to get back to those too. ;) Also, side note: for those of you who are wondering "WTF?" while reading any part of this, please be assured that everything WILL get explained at some point. I like having my stories wrap up nicely so that they make sense so don't fret. If it's confusing now, it should get cleared up as we go. As for the angst you see in this chapter, yes, there has to be SOME angst. I want to show some character development through the story so there has to be a little angst here and there (it IS Supernatural after all) but I will try to keep it reasonable and break it up with lots of cute and funny moments.

For those of you who have been kind enough to review, THANK YOU! Your comments help make this so much fun for me and I'm thrilled stupid that you guys are enjoying this that much. ^_^

OOOO! And I am dedicating this chapter to **Seraph5**! She's a fantastic artist on DeviantArt who drew a lovely picture for me based on this story! You can see it by going to Seraph's DA page. I sadly cannot link here as it won't let me. *scowls* Just go to http:/seraph5[dot]deviantart[dot]com/#/d2vdjmu

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It was early afternoon as the Winchesters finally pulled into the safety of Bobby's driveway. The crunch of gravel beneath the tires pulled Sam from his sleep and he mumbled incoherently as he came back to consciousness. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," Dean said as he punched his brother's arm in a friendly gesture, reserved only for siblings, that was supposedly to help him wake up. Sam scowled as he rubbed his quickly bruising bicep. When he looked down it was to find Castiel as awake as ever, demurely leaning back in the perfect picture of what every good little child should look like. Around them, littered over the floorboards and along the doorpanel were dozens of empty honey packets. Sam was sure that no child should be able to eat that much honey without getting ill but Cas had been more than content to run through them all and hadn't seemed to have even the slightest sign of sickness afterward. A part of Sam felt like the worst parent in the world, for while Castiel certainly wasn't his _son_, he _was_ still a child and the young man couldn't imagine that it would be healthy to feed any child the way they had been. A sad smile touched his lips and he brushed a hand ever so gently over the angel's head, soft dark locks slipping between his fingers like the down of a small bird. Cas turned up to meet the touch, casting those ever inquisitive blue eyes in Sam's direction and the hunter ran the pad of one large thumb across the angel's forehead. There was an overwhelming feeling of protectiveness growing in his gut that he couldn't quite put a finger on.

"You ok?"

Dean's question startled the younger man and he snapped his head up. "Hm? Oh…yeah…just…" he sighed and let his hand drop back to his lap. "It just feels weird, ya know? Even when he was completely without his powers, Cas was still pretty capable. It's weird seeing him like this, knowing how much he's depending on us right now. We don't even know what happened to him yet." Sam paused and met the stare leveled up at him. His heart sank a little. "He pulled me out, Dean," he said quietly. It was the first time he had mentioned what had happened almost a year ago when he had thrown himself willingly into hell to save the world. He hadn't spoken about it since then, content to just let it slide to the back of his mind rather than confront himself with all that he had seen down there and he knew Dean didn't want to be reminded of his own time there either. The nightmares had faded, the pain eased, and eventually he'd fallen back into the norms that he'd clung to for the years leading up to that moment. Just him and his brother on the road, monsters falling before them as they saved people. Now he found himself once more potentially facing demonic threats and he wasn't sure that he had healed as much as he'd hoped. He'd wanted so badly to just put them all behind him, the angels, the demons, the eternal war, but apparently it wasn't meant to be as he and Dean were being dragged inevitably back in. A part of him hated them all for it. Why couldn't they just leave him and his brother alone? Hadn't they given enough? Hurt enough? In the next breath a swell of guilt tugged at him though. When he had turned his back on the angels after his return, he had also stopped talking about, or for that matter thinking about, Castiel as well. He hadn't wanted to think about any of the angels since they had been just as much at fault as the demons, but as he looked down at the child in his lap, he knew that wasn't really fair. Castiel had died to help the Winchesters…twice. He had gone to heaven when it was all over, intent on putting things right upstairs but even with the turmoil that was no doubt left in the wake of the apocalypse, the angel had still risked flying into hell itself to seek out Sam and rend him from the pit. It wasn't the first time he'd braved the fires either. "He pulled you out too," Sam added in grave tones, "I just….don't want to let him down."

Dean watched his brother very carefully, half holding his breath with each word. He knew they hadn't said anything since that night, hadn't talked about it or sought any kind of comfort over it despite being the only two beings on the planet who had been to hell and come back out. He pressed back his own memories of his time in the fires and tried to force down the panic that rose with those images. He swallowed hard at the guilt that rose like bile in his throat as well. It had been his fault Sam had gone through all that he had in the first place. His need to have Sam back, his weakness at not being able to carry on without his baby brother at his side, had been what led him to make the deal that sent his soul to the pit in the first place. Once there, he had done things, become things he didn't want to think about. He had felt his very soul soiled there and had kicked off the end of the world. Sam had been the one who had released Lucifer, sure, but he had also been the one that ended it. Dean on the other hand had been the one to break the first seal. He stared straight ahead out of the windshield and tried to fight the swell of old wounds threatening to open again. "We won't," was all he said by way of response to his brother's concerns. Sure, he had been pretty pissed at Castiel when the angel had up and left them without much of a goodbye but he _had_ brought Sam back and that went a long way toward healing any grievances he had with the celestial. The fact that it had been Castiel who had pulled _him_ from the pit as well meant that he owed it to the angel, pain in the ass that he was, to help him out now in his time of need.

Both brothers were saved from any further introspection by the appearance of Bobby in the doorway of the house. "Well are ya comin' inside or are ya gonna sit in my damn driveway all night, ya idjits?" With that, the older hunter turned and marched right back into his house leaving Dean and Sam to make up their own minds. Sam climbed out of the car with Cas hefted up onto his shoulder and as he reached into the back to grab the bags of clothes, he heard Dean snort in amusement.

"Hey, Sam. You know you got an angel on your…"

"Shut up, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes and snagged up the stuffed bunny from the backseat, handing it up to a grateful Castiel who immediately clamped onto one long ear and pulled it to his chest. The bags were tossed to Dean to carry as the trio made their way to the house. They stepped into the cool air of the hallway and followed the sounds of papers rustling until they located Bobby hunched over a few books in his study. He turned to say something to them but paused as he laid eyes on the little figure clinging to Sam.

"I'll be damned," he said, flabbergasted by the sight, "You weren't kiddin', were ya?"

"'Friad not, Bobby," Dean said as he dropped the bags into a nearby corner, "Please tell me you found something that will explain this cause I'm getting a little tired of being the punchline to a sitcom."

Bobby eyed the infant angel warily before finally stepping forward to take a closer look. "Well, I ain't found anything about turning angels into babies, if that's what yer lookin' for. For that matter, I couldn't even find a monster that was known for turning **humans** into babies. Just doesn't seem like it's somethin' that happens all that often. There's no lore, I could dig up on baby angels either, I mean aside from the usual crap about them fat little cherubs and such."

Dean shuddered and rolled his shoulders. "Trust me, Bobby, there's nothing 'baby-like' about cherubs and they sure as hell aren't 'cute'," he said with open disgust. "So, nothing at all that might explain this?"

Bobby shrugged. "Whata'ya want me to do, son? I can't make up lore that ain't there. There's just nothing on this. I mean, it don't make a whole lotta sense, ya know? What the hell kinda monster turns an angel into a baby anyway? Seems kinda ridiculous if ya ask me." He looked up and gave the child a crooked smile. "Hell, he's kinda cute like that, ain't he?"

Sam smiled like a proud father and pulled the angel down to hand him over for Bobby to inspect closer. Castiel put up with the manhandling with general good nature, seemingly unfazed at being passed around, and he turned to look up at the older man plucking him from Sam's hands. Bobby settled the child against the side of his chest but his hand paused as it ran over the infant's back. He shot a questioning look up at Sam and then over to Dean as his fingers brushed over the jacket again, feeling the two strange lumps hidden beneath the fabric. "Somethin' you boys wanna tell me?" He asked suspiciously. The brothers exchanged glances and it was Sam who spoke up first.

"Uh..yeah, we were gonna tell you about that but _someone_ forgot to mention it before I called you last night." Sam shot his brother a look that Dean had often typified as his "bitch face" and then reached for Castiel's jacket. He peeled the little leather coat off and then gently lifted the hem of the shirt, exposing the infant's back. The two pearlescent wings shuddered a moment before unfurling themselves from where they had been pinned against Castiel's back. The angel let out a satisfied sigh and seemed to relax further into the chest he was leaning against as if the lack of constraint against his wings were a sudden relief.

"Well now THAT'D been an important thing ta know," Bobby griped irritably.

"They're solid," Sam offered helpfully as Bobby reached up to brush his fingers over the bottom of the feathers. The wings twitched and pulled up farther, like a bird shying from a touch, and Bobby let his hand fall back down to cradle the infant's lower back. "I think they're pretty sensitive," Sam continued, "he doesn't really like them being played with."

Bobby nodded and turned back to his stacks of books with his precious cargo still clinging to him. "So where do we go from here?" Dean asked to no one in particular as Bobby settled back in behind his desk to start his research anew. "I mean, we can't just hang out waiting until whatever did this comes back to finish the job."

Sam barked a short laugh that lacked any humor. "Yeah, I somehow doubt we're going to stand much of a chance in a one on one fight against anything that did THIS to Cas."

Dean sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Well, at least we can hide out here for a bit until we figure out our next move. For now though, I'm gonna get a beer. You want one, Sammy?"

Sam shook his head and then turned to Bobby. "Hey, out of curiosity, do you have any honey around?"

Bobby shot him a confounded look. "Honey? What the hell do ya need honey for? You gonna _bake_ somethin' at a time like this?"

"No, Cas likes it," Sam explained, "it's the only thing we've been able to get him to eat so far."

Dean leaned around the corner of the kitchen and took a swig from his beer. "Yeah, it's weird but he loves the stuff. Chowed down like frickin' pooh bear in the car ride here."

Bobby looked thoughtful for a second and then nodded. "Yeah, guess that makes sense," he said cryptically. After receiving extremely confused looks from both of the brothers he elaborated further. "Manna." The Winchesters exchanged another set of bewildered looks. "Manna, ya idjits. It's what angels eat. Supposed to be some kinda heavenly food or somethin'. Accordin' to legend it tastes like honey an' crackers."

"Wait…so you're tellin' me that honey and saltines are the food of heaven?" Dean asked incredulously, "Sounds more like the diet of a poor college kid than an angel's."

Bobby shook his head. "Yeah, well, I don't make the rules. I don't know that feedin' him a ton of honey is a good idea either. It might taste like somethin' he's used to and I don't know that angels can get sick off eating unhealthy but it ain't manna either and we don't know anything about baby angels. 'Sides, I ain't got any honey in the house anyway. I don't exactly drink a lotta tea, ya know. Now here," he said, tossing a book to Sam, "make yerself useful an' help me dig through these to see if there's anything in here about angel wings."

The boys settled in for a long afternoon of pouring over old tomes which left the whole of the study smelling like dust, old leather bindings, and well worn paper. Castiel spent much of the time sitting utterly still against Bobby's chest, causing the hunter to check several times to see if he had fallen asleep, but every instance had been met with alert bright eyes wide open and watching with interest. Dean and Sam had figured out already that Castiel's odd habit of not sleeping was not relegated to his being an adult and they took some amusement from the fact that this seemed to disturb Bobby on some level. The afternoon gave way to evening and still they could find very little that spoke about angel's wings outside of the usual descriptions of color, number or size, and they certainly hadn't found anything that was the least bit helpful in the matter of proper care and maintenance of such things. Finally, with the night having closed in and the remnants of their dinner spread around them, interspersed with open half read books, the trio decided a good night's sleep was in order. They set off for bed intent on starting the search anew in the morning and much to Bobby and Sam's surprise, Dean offered to keep Cas with him overnight. He mumbled something about it being his turn to watch the infant since the others had been taking care of him all day but in truth he wanted to see if having his friend nearby again would let him sleep as soundly as he had the previous night.

Dean freed the angel's wings from beneath the offending shirt he'd been wearing all day and then nestled Castiel down into the bed while he went to finish his nightly routines. When he came back, the child hadn't moved an inch from where he'd been set, his chubby little arms still wrapped tightly around the ridiculous bunny Sam had bought him. Dean smiled lopsidedly at him before crawling in and gently scooting the baby closer until Cas was pressed against his side. "Look, when this is all over and you're back to being you, we're not gonna mention this again, right? I mean…I'm only doin' this cause you're little," Dean said to the silent figure tucked into the crook of his arm. There was, of course, no response but after a moment, the angel turned and nuzzled closer, curling into the embrace and pressing his cheek against the side of Dean's chest. It felt like someone had turned on a furnace next to his skin, and Dean found himself quickly becoming drowsy as the warmth spread across his ribs. He couldn't quite put his finger on why cuddling up to the infant was so damn comforting but he figured it probably had something to do with the memories of holding Sam when he was younger and it was to those pleasant thoughts that Dean finally drifted off to sleep.

It was 2 am when Dean woke again. His eyes snapped open of their own accord and he felt his heart racing in his chest for some reason he couldn't fathom. A bad dream maybe. The room was dark and quiet, a light breeze wafting through the open window, and he tried to relax back against the pillows again. Beside him, Dean could still feel the comfortable warmth of Castiel and yet his instincts screaming that something was terribly off. The curtains billowed slightly in a short gust and Dean flinched at the movement, his eyes darting around the room. Nothing seemed out of place. There weren't any signs he could tell that anything at all was wrong and the rest of the house was silent but he couldn't shake the tingle of adrenaline creeping up the back of his neck. He glanced again at the window and watched the curtains move. The curtains. Dean's eyes widened as he lay perfectly still. He hadn't opened the window that night. Beside him, Castiel let out a thin strained whimper and in the next instant a dark shadow caught Dean's eye in the corner of the room. He snatched Cas up into his arms and rolled off the bed to his feet. He felt the impact of something hitting the mattress in the spot he had just vacated and without a second thought, his foot came up to slam backward. The kick connected with something and Dean felt the hit roll all the way up the muscles of his leg. He turned to find a woman bent over his bed, gasping. When she looked up at him, her eyes were solid black. They settled first on Dean and a predatory smile stretched across her face but then she seemed to notice Castiel for the first time, held protectively in Dean's arms, and those inky orbs widened in obvious surprise.

The demon let out a horrifyingly hungry noise and licked her lips in a way that sent chills down Dean's spine. In the next instant she was lunging at them and he narrowly avoided the attack by tucking into a roll, coming up on the other side of the room. In his haste to get Castiel off the bed, Dean realized he had forgotten to grab the gun tucked safely under his pillow and he cussed himself for the rookie error. The demon hissed in an animalistic fury and as she leaped at them again, Dean knew he wasn't going to be able to fight off a demon while holding an infant. He dodged again, bringing his foot up to slam her back against the wall but he knew it wouldn't buy him much time. "SAM!" he screamed as he dove for the bed. He leapt up onto the mattress and fell to his knees at the top, freeing one hand to shove under the pillow in his search for a weapon. As his fingers curled over the cold grip of the .45, he felt the burn of nails raking down his back. The demoness wrenched him backward and struggled to wrap her arms around in her attempts to get to Castiel but Dean brought the gun to bear and ended the fight with one swift shot leveled under her chin. His door slammed open and Sam's imposing figure filled the doorframe, silhouetted from behind by the light Bobby had just flipped on in the hall.

"Dean?" Sam rushed forward and pulled his brother to his feet, his eyes flicking to the body of the dead woman sprawled across the sheets which were already staining red beneath her. "What happened?" he asked anxiously. His question was cut off however by the splintering of wood from downstairs and Dean could hear Bobby cussing in the hallway below.

"There's MORE of 'em!" the older hunter called up. Below them, the brothers could hear the front door threatening to give way and Dean raced from the room without another word.

"We can't fight these damn things with Cas like this," Dean shouted back to Sam as they raced down the steps. When they hit the bottom, they found Bobby already in the study ripping open drawers and withdrawing everything from silver daggers to vials of holy water. Dean tucked the gun in his belt and moved to hand the angel over to the older hunter to free himself up for fighting but as he looked down he felt his heart ache a little at the sight of Castiel's small form hunched against him, his wings tucked tightly against his body. The infant peered up at him with wide eyes and it struck Dean how scared the angel looked. This was emphasized as the front door took another blow and Castiel let out a small troubled sound as he buried his face in Dean's shirt. His little fingers fisted into the cloth beneath him and it was almost heartbreaking when the hunter forced himself to pull the infant from his chest and hand him over to Bobby. Castiel whimpered as the contact was broken but turned to cling just as tightly to the older man the next moment, easing some of Dean's guilt. Bobby cooed something reassuring to the infant that Dean didn't quite hear but his attention was pulled by the sound of the door finally giving way under the assault. Four people appeared in the doorway to the study, one of them looking more like a frumpy housewife than a ravening demon, but the looks on their faces said they had anything but good intentions. Another window somewhere in the back bedroom gave way and the hunters knew more demons would soon be joining the fray. The calm demeanor of the intruders shifted eerily as they one by one caught sight of the infant angel. Dean and Sam had seen more than their fair share of demons, ranging from the insufferably smug to the seductive, but the change that came over all of them in that moment was a whole new experience. Hunger was written over their faces with painful clarity and the lead demon couldn't take his eyes off the cowering child.

"Give me the angel," the man hissed, his eyes flicking black as he took a step forward, "You won't want to make this difficult."

Dean brought his gun to bear and Sam stepped to the side to block the demon's view, a long shining blade in his grip. "Oh we're GOOD at making life difficult, pal, and that's as close as you're getting. You want a baby? Go find yourself one of those ugly hell bitches and spawn one of your own," he growled. Beside him, Sam clenched his jaw and braced himself for the inevitable fight that he knew was about to kick off. It felt like every muscle in his body had coiled and he felt that deep seated hatred he'd felt in the car rise in his gut again. He had too little patience left when it came to dealing with demons and he felt that anger boil over into something uglier when the lead demon craned to look around him. Without another word, Sam lunged forward and plunged the dagger up to the hilt in the man's throat. Flares of red and gold light burst under the man's skin as the demon was burned away by the power of the blade. He ripped the knife back out and let the body fall, his gaze intent on the rest of the group, but the action hadn't had the intended effect. Instead of being intimidated and backing off, this seemed to have unleashed the horde and they all rushed forward at once. Dean fired off round after round while Sam slit open throats so wide that heads nearly toppled off but more demons continued to pour in. They came from Bobby's bedroom, from the front door, and even from upstairs where Dean could only assume they had climbed into the open window. Whoever had sent these demons had certainly spared no expense and Dean quickly found himself fighting for all he was worth. Warmth tricked down his arm from where one of the demons had clocked him with a piece of broken chair but he ignored the burn for now as he put down the attacker and turned to face another. He could hear Sam fighting across the room and knew that they were being pretty hard pressed. At the rate they were fighting, he feared they wouldn't be able to keep all of the demons back.

As the battle raged across the room, Bobby made himself as useful as he could considering his cargo. He slammed a silver dagger through the throat of a demon that had slipped past the furious shield the Winchesters were providing and gave another a face full of holywater. Castiel made a high unhappy sound and curled tighter against Bobby's chest, his wings shivering with obvious distress. The older hunter bent protectively over the infant in his arms, instinctively turning to put himself between Cas and the demons, torn between wanting to help the two young men he considered his own sons and the helpless child he was holding.

"Bobby! Get him to the bunker!" Dean screamed from across the room as he placed the barrel of the colt squarely in the chest of the creature latched onto his arm. A moment later, the demon's body convulsed as the gunshot rang out but Bobby didn't wait to see it hit the floor. He turned and bolted from the study and out into the hall. As he tore down the path toward the cellar door, he could hear the sound of boots skidding across the hardwood floor behind him as another demon pursued him from the room. It was closing fast and he only got two steps down before a hand fisted into the back of his shirt, yanking him hard enough to almost pull him from his feet. Bobby swayed precariously but used the motion to twist himself around, drawing the hidden revolver tucked into this waistband. He pressed the barrel of the gun between the demon's eyes and squeezed the trigger. Its head snapped back sickeningly and as he wheeled around and all but fell down the stairs in a dead run, he could hear the dull thud of the demon's body above him. He staggered a few steps once his boots hit the flat concrete floor but managed to stay upright, whipping around the banister to rush for the bunker door ahead.

His hands closed over the cold steel and he yanked it as hard as he could, cursing the fact that he couldn't use both hands if he wanted to keep Castiel close to him. The metal squealed in protest as a new set of feet thundered toward the open door to the cellar. Sweat stung Bobby's eyes as he finally wrenched the door open and raced over the threshold. He spun to find the figure of a man filling the doorway, dressed smartly in a gray business suit, with sweat beading his brow as he glared holes straight through the hunter. His chest heaved with each panted breath and his eyes were black as midnight, broken only by the pinpricks of white light reflected from the bulbs overhead as they sprang to life. Castiel fisted tighter into Bobby's shirt and turned his face to hide it from the demon, his wings curling tightly against his body as he tried to make himself as small as possible. Bobby calmly met the hungry glare of their tormentor. "C'mon in here, you sorry sunnuva bitch, and I'll send yer ass back to hell one piece at a time," he growled defiantly.


	7. Chapter 7: Last resorts

A/N: Thank you so much again to all those who left reviews for me! I'm so happy to know that the characters are staying true and that you guys are enjoying this. This chapter is less action but sets up some new players that will become important later. I hope you enjoy! Also, please let me know if I get any characters wrong. I try very hard to stick to their personalities but it can get difficult at times.

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The standoff seemed to last forever even though Bobby knew he was safe within the bunker. The devil's traps etched into the walls assured that the monster at the doorway wouldn't dare cross into the room but it did little to ease the unnerving stare being directed at he and Castiel. "Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. You're not being very cooperative," the demon teased, "if I were in your shoes, I'd be doing everything possible to make some _friends_ in hell. After all, you still belong to us, don't you?" The hunter shifted uncomfortably at the reminder but stayed silent. "How long did he give you? Or did you even get a time limit?" An eerie smile twisted the man's face as he watched for any reaction to his words and Bobby took another step back, turning to partially block Castiel from view.

"None'a your damn business," he retorted, "You won't be alive long enough for it ta matter anyway."

The demon laughed, a low, ugly sound and looked up at the ceiling. From above they could both hear the continued struggle punctuated by the loud cracks of Dean's pistol and Bobby's heart tightened at the thought of what the Winchesters were facing upstairs. "If you're waiting on the cavalry, I wouldn't hold my breath. And you can't stay in this bunker forever, old man. The child doesn't need to eat, but you do. Why put yourself through that? Think about it, Bobby," the man offered in oily tones that made the older man's skin crawl, "you have something we want. We have something you want. Just make a trade. I can get your soul back and all you have to do is give me the angel."

There was a moment's hesitation on the part of the hunter. It was true; like any sane man, he didn't WANT to go to hell, in fact he'd do almost anything he could to avoid it, but when the demon mentioned Castiel in trade, a look of utter disgust filtered over Bobby's features. "If I was the kinda man that would do that, I would _deserve_ to go ta hell," he snarled, "Drop dead. Only way yer getting' him is if ya send me to hell ahead of ya."

The man let out a low growl and reached for the doorway, his hand stopping just a few centimeters away as he realized even the doorframe was made of the offending metal and etched in sigils. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he spoke. "Don't be a fool. You think this is going to end here? Even if you manage to keep me at bay, how long do you think it's going to take before all of hell hears about this? You'll be swimming in demons and they won't be as generous," he warned.

Bobby scoffed and rubbed his hand reassuringly over Castiel's back. "I'll take my chances," he said flatly. Cold steel pressed into the skin behind the demon's left ear and the sound of a hammer being pulled back sounded in the suddenly quiet room. The creature had been far too preoccupied with its presumed prey to realize that the fighting upstairs had died, nor had it heard the sound of Dean approaching from behind. "And right now," Bobby continued with a smirk, "I think my chances are lookin' pretty damn good."

Sam moved down the last of the stairs and pulled up beside Dean. "Bobby? You and Cas ok?" he called, his eyes trained on the monster Dean had locked down.

"Yeah. Took ya long enough," the older hunter retorted, "I thought I was gonna have to stand here till he _talked_ me ta death."

Sam and Dean exchanged flustered glances before shaking their heads. Both were covered in superficial wounds, bruises and cuts littering their bodies from head to foot, and Sam had a nice sized gash across the left side of his brow. "We'll fend off the murdering hordes faster next time," Dean snarked grumpily. He pressed the barrel harder against the demon's head and clamped him on the shoulder, forcing him to his knees. "Now, who sent you?"

The demon chortled and risked turning its head to look back over its shoulder. "Someone you will regret interfering with. Trust me when I tell you that things will go so much easier for you all if you just give me the child. You have no idea what you've gotten yourselves into."

Dean's lip curled in irritation and a dangerous growl formed in the back of his throat. "I'm not interested in playing games, asshole. Just tell me who sent you or I'll snuff you clean out of existence." His patience had been worn far too thin over the last few years to indulge in these sorts of conversations with demons. He knew the denizens of hell well enough to know that their words were just as dangerous as any other weapon they brought to bear and all he wanted right then were simple concise answers.

The demon scoffed at the threat and shook its head. "You think dying scares me? I know what will happen to me if I help you. I know what's hunting the angels." He shot an oily smile up at the brothers. "And I know what's going to happen to your precious little infant when it gets a hold of him. Do you want to hear?" The words sent chills up Dean's spine and his stomach turned at the obvious joy the demon was taking in whatever sick thoughts were running through its head right then. "Do you have any idea how rare infant angels are?" it continued quietly in a voice that left the hunter feeling ill, "Do you know what we do with them when we get them? All those little feathers. Such tiny delicate things," it whispered hungrily, "such fragile bones. The older angels aren't as much fun, you see. You can't kill them, not really. But infants? Oh I almost wish he was still in the egg." The demon licked its lips obscenely and before he even realized it, Dean pulled the trigger, shudders wracking his body as he tried to wipe that image from his mind.

"Well, so much for interrogation," Bobby said as the demon's lifeless body flopped to the ground.

Dean slid his gun away and shot his friend an irritable look. "What? You wanted to keep listening to that shit?"

"Hell no," Bobby said, "I'm glad the miserable SOB is dead but we ain't gonna get any answers out of him now, are we?"

Sensing an argument, Sam quickly stepped in between the two of them and made his way into the bunker. "It doesn't matter. He wasn't going to tell us what we wanted to know anyway but he _DID_ tell us something useful," he said as he reached to take Castiel from Bobby's arms. He knew the older hunter had done a good job protecting the infant and yet some selfish part of him needed to hold Cas again for his own comfort if nothing else. The rage he'd felt upstairs had unsettled him, a reminder that he had not escaped hell without his own scars to bear, and he sought out the calming affect that cradling the tiny angel had produced before. As he lifted Castiel and pressed him close to his chest, he could already feel the comforting warmth that spread out from where the child lay. The muscles in his shoulders and back relaxed and he let out a long low sigh as he rubbed absently at the soft patch of skin between the neatly folded wings, careful not to brush the feathers themselves. Castiel also seemed to have relaxed in the absence of demonic presence and he lifted his head from Sam's shoulder to curl under the protection of his chin instead. The wings flicked once and then stilled though they were no longer sealed tightly against his skin the way they had been when he'd been frightened.

Dean joined the others in the safety of the bunker, pulling the door shut behind him as he entered. "You wanna elaborate on what the hell he said that you actually found useful?" the older Winchester said, his voice still low with distaste.

Sam turned to face him as he rested his chin ever so gently onto the top of Castiel's head. "He said they don't know how to kill angels, Dean. Think about that. It means that wherever Gabriel is, chances are he's still alive. We just have to find him."

Dean mulled over the thought for a minute and nodded. "Good thinking. Now we just have to figure out how the hell to _do_ that. We can't exactly go around putting up flyers all over the neighborhood. 'Reward: Lost angel. Responds to the name Gabe or Trickster. Do not leave alone around family pets or hot chicks.'"

Sam sighed. "Well I don't know what else to try. You'd think the other angels would be out there looking for Gabe too but we can't exactly ask them if they know what's going on."

"No," Bobby interjected, "but we might be able to ask someone from the other side of things." He looked meaningfully between the two brothers. "Crowley," he said with disgust. "I hate to say it but that slimy bastard knows all about what goes on down in the pit and he might be able to get us some answers. The kidnapping of an archangel should be making headline news downstairs. No way he won't know _somethin'_. "

Dean was already shaking his head. "No," he said emphatically, "Last time he showed up, you sold your damn soul to him. I don't trust him. We'll find some other way."

"I know what I did, son," Bobby said, his voice holding a clear warning that he didn't want to discuss the subject, "an I did it to save the world. So sue me. Not a one of us in here hasn't been in the same boat at some point. But it ain't like he can do _more_ damage either. Can't sell him my soul twice. So we get him here, ask him some questions and if he acts up, we send his ass right back out the door."

Sam didn't like the idea any more than Dean did but he had to admit that it was an angle they hadn't played yet and it might yield a little more information on what they were facing. "Can't hurt to give it a try, Dean," he said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice, "We keep Bobby and Cas in here and summon Crowley out there," he nodded toward the door, "They'll be perfectly safe."

Dean scowled and shot challenging looks at both of the other men in the room but it was obvious that they'd all but made up their minds already and as much as he hated to admit it, they had a valid point. Crowley was a miserable, vile, and entirely untrustworthy being but he _had_ proven some level of usefulness during the final battles of the apocalypse, even if that help had often resulted in some of the worst days of Dean's life. "Fine," he snapped, turning on his heel and striding from the room, "but he steps ONE foot out of line and I'm shooting his ass."

Sam let out a slow breath. He had backed Bobby's play but certainly didn't care much for what they were about to do. It was with a great deal of reluctance as well that he parted with the warm bundle that had settled beneath his chin but he wouldn't risk bringing Cas anywhere _near_ another demon again. The reactions of the others had been surprising and extremely unpleasant and it was not an experience he wished to repeat even if he was sure he could protect the angel. While Bobby waited with Cas in the bunker, the Winchesters set to work building a protective circle in which to summon the demon. They gathered the ingredients from around the house, which had suffered heavily from the attack, and then closed and barricaded the door to the cellar to ensure they didn't have any additional unwanted visitors interrupting the ritual. When all was set and ready, Dean cast Sam one last sidelong look which his brother answered with a nod. A match was dropped into the mixing plate where it flared a bright yellow against the sulfur and smoke began pouring from it in a thin sickly ribbon. The stench filled the air and Dean crinkled his nose. He _really_ hated demons. The candles they had set up around the makeshift altar guttered in a nonexistent wind and the brothers quickly glanced around the room.

"Good evening, gentlemen," drawled a smooth voice from directly behind them, "Why do I get the impression this isn't a social call?"

The Winchesters snapped around to find Crowley leaning nonchalantly against the stair railing, dressed as impeccably as always, with his fingers laced together as he watched them. Dean swallowed the instant urge to strangle him. The smugness was practically rolling off the man's form and it irked a serious nerve for the hunter. He'd been beaten severely because of Crowley's supposed help and had even been left to meet death face to face because of it. Not to mention that the man he thought of as a father was consigned to hell because of this being. Dean's fingers itched to reach for the colt and just end it right there but he knew that wouldn't help them figure out who was behind everything they were dealing with, nor would it free Bobby. "We need some information," he said tersely.

"I see," Crowley responded, "and you thought you'd just ring me up, we'd have a sleepover, and I'd spill my guts like a twelve year old girl? Come on now, boys. We've done this enough times, you know how it works. What's my incentive?" He smiled patronizingly at them and Dean's ire rose even more. He hated feeling like he was out of his league and talking to Crowley always left him feeling like he was the punchline to a joke he didn't even understand yet.

"How about 'spill it or I blow your damned head off,'" Dean spit. Crowley raised a single well manicured eyebrow and then looked over at Sam as if the younger brother were the voice of reason among the two.

"Well aren't WE in a lovely mood this evening. But let's skip the melodramatic threats, shall we? After all, you didn't bring me here just to kill me and a dead body isn't exactly going to help your cause, now is it?" Crowley glanced over at the corpse of the demon lying in front of the bunker door. "Though you do seem to have a habit of stockpiling them regardless." The demon righted himself and straightened his jacket, wiping away an invisible speck from one lapel as if leaning against the banister had sullied him somehow. "So what is it this time boys?" he said as he strolled toward them, "Lucifer is back in his cage and the whole sodding world's already been saved. Shouldn't you two be off somewhere holding hands and picking flowers or something instead of mixing it up with demons again? Or is it just that you missed me?"

A slight smile curved the corner of Dean's mouth. "Oh trust me, Crowley. I might miss you at some point but it won't be with the first shot."

"Funny," Crowley said dryly, "You're a regular bloody comedian. Now can we skip to the point? I have an appointment in a half an hour with a lovely little thing that is ready to sell his soul to be a rockstar and I _don't_ want to miss it. So let's make this quick."

"We want to know who's got the archangel Gabriel," Sam blurted out.

Crowley stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at the younger Winchester. "Let's just say anyone picking that sort of fight isn't someone you want to go getting mixed up with. Besides, I thought you already _had_ a pet angel. Looking to start a collection?"

Sam huffed in annoyance. These games were getting old very quickly and pulling information out of Crowley was nigh impossible without going into logic circles that he had no doubts would leave his head pounding later. He knew full well that Crowley was twisting them into giving away more intel than they were getting but he didn't know what other options they had. "Cas is…in trouble. We think the one who took Gabriel is the same one responsible for what happened to Cas and we need to find him. Can you help us or not?"

Crowley looked thoughtful and admittedly curious. "Well, I can't tell you who went and caught themselves an angel, whoever it is is taking pains to keep it quiet, but perhaps if I knew more about this trouble, I might be able to figure it out. Or you could continue being obtuse and I can simply be on my way. I have better things to do than play guessing games with the poster children for mixing guns and ADD."

Dean and Sam exchanged looks and it was obvious that Dean's mistrust at this whole situation was growing by the minute. He pulled the colt from its hiding spot just to be on the safe side and then yanked the bunker door open. Crowley peered inside and his brows shot up at the sight of Bobby cradling the infant Castiel in his arms. "Well, well, well, what have we here?"

Bobby looked positively furious at the sudden appearance of the demon and he shot up from his seat. Castiel swiveled about to look at the new intruder and his wings instantly folded down in a sign of discomfort. "What the HELL are you DOIN'?" Bobby shouted, "Have you lost yer damn MIND?"

"He wouldn't help us until he knew the whole story, Bobby. I don't like it either," Dean said stiffly, his eyes locked on the demon in front of him and the colt at the ready, but Crowley wasn't reacting with quite the same obvious hunger the other demons had. He was smiling enigmatically instead.

"Oh this is just bloody perfect," Crowley crooned, "I certainly wasn't expecting _this._ Gentlemen, you are, in a word, **fucked.**" He seemed far too pleased by this proclamation and he leaned forward to waggle his fingers almost playfully at Castiel, who was none too amused by this and shied back into Bobby's shoulder. "What you have here is one of the rarest things in existence, boys. You see, new demons are born every time a human goes to hell and climbs down off the rack to take his turn with the whip," he explained calmly, casting a knowing look at Dean, "They're a dime a dozen. But angels? Only God can make new ones and he's bloody stingy with them. I'd say there hasn't been a new angel in over two thousand years or so, give or take a century. More's the pity too since they're one of the most powerful ingredients one can use in demonic rituals. Not to mention they're considered a delicacy," he added offhandedly. The last statement earned him a glare from all three hunters and he rolled his eyes. "What? I've never had one myself," he said sullenly though it sounded more like a complaint than a declaration of innocence.

"So can you tell us who could have done this?" Sam interjected before the subject wandered back into territory he was definitively uncomfortable with. "What kind of demon can turn an angel into a baby?"

Crowley shrugged. "None." He met the eyes of the two Winchesters who were giving him disbelieving looks. "Seriously, at least make an attempt to use the gray matter between your ears. If anyone in hell were powerful enough to turn an angel into a baby, don't you think there would be a lot less angels? We'd be doing it every chance we got. Thing is, there simply isn't any demon powerful enough to do this." He leaned back and folded his hands into his pockets, his voice going low and serious. "Gentlemen, the only thing powerful enough to do this AND capture an archangel, is another angel."


	8. Chapter 8: Wheeling and Dealing

A/n: Not as much action in this chapter but it sets the scene for things to come and I have plans for the next scenes that would have made this far too long if I'd included them. So enjoy more Castiel cuteness instead.

Also, thank you again EVER so much to all those who reviewed. It makes writing this so much fun!

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The room went silent after Crowley's proclamation and the hunters all exchanged uncertain looks. The demon wasn't exactly known for being honest but what he was saying rang with at least a modicum of truth. None of the demons they had ever fought were powerful enough to have taken on an archangel and it was only Lucifer himself who had proven strong enough to have harmed Gabriel last time. But the devil was sealed tightly in his cage and as far as they knew, there wasn't any way for him to get back out again unless they re-opened all the old seals, something neither brother was willing to let happen. "So, wait," Dean piped up finally, "Are you saying someone from _heaven_ did this?" His disbelief was fairly palpable.

"No, I said only an _angel_ could do this," Crowley replied in a voice that indicated he was talking to a two year old, "Not all angels live in heaven. Seriously, you know better than that. Not even _you_ two are _that_ dense. Think about it. What was Lucifer?"

Sam closed his eyes and tilted his head back, willing down the growing unease he was feeling at the situation. "An angel," he breathed.

"But Lucy's locked in a damn box right now," Dean said emphatically, "right?" He looked over at Crowley for some sort of reassurance. "I mean, no WAY he's back out again."

Crowley quirked an eyebrow at the slight note of panic he could hear in Dean's voice though he couldn't blame them, not after what they had sacrificed to seal Lucifer away. "Do you really think I would be _here_ if Satan wasn't back in his cage? I can handle the disgruntled few who want me dead but I'm not stupid enough to stick around if I thought the Morning Star himself was wandering about." He shot them both annoyed looks and then looked over at Bobby expectantly. "Come on, this isn't _that_ difficult."

"Lucifer wasn't the only one cast out," the hunter said slowly and Crowley beamed at him.

"Bravo. At least _one_ of you has some sense. Lucifer defied the will of God but he wasn't alone. There were others that rallied to his call when he rebelled and they were cast out just the same. They became known as the princes of hell and they are NOT the sort of beings you want to go poking at. There's no telling who got stirred up by what you three idiots kicked off but suffice it to say that all of the pit is currently embroiled in the mother of all power struggles and that's bound to get _someone's _attention," Crowley said unhappily, "With the devil back in his cage, everyone's scrabbling for position in the new management, climbing the flaming corporate ladder as it were, and it shouldn't be too surprising that some of the big boys of the underworld are making their own plays." He turned to look back at the angel with consternation. "I'm telling you now that whoever is doing this isn't interested in settling for just upper management either. One doesn't go to all the trouble of kidnapping an archangel just to put him on their mantelpiece. That, coupled with the fact that they went and found a way to get themselves an infant angel, tells me that they are planning nothing less than a full take over." He pursed his lips thoughtfully and narrowed his eyes as he watched the occasional twitch of Castiel's wings. The infant had curled himself as far as possible against Bobby's shoulder by then and was looking up imploringly at his protector. The tension in his tiny frame was painfully evident to Sam who took another unconscious step toward Crowley, ready to carve the demon into pieces if he made any kind of aggressive move.

Dean picked up on his brother's unease but placed a restraining hand on Sam's arm to calm him. The bunker was safe, even from Crowley, and he knew Castiel wasn't in any danger as long as he stayed in there. The information they were getting now was far too valuable to risk interrupting and, once satisfied that Sam wasn't going to shank their informant at any moment, he prodded for more. "So you think one of Lucifer's angel buddies in the pit is trying to take over as top dog? Ok, I'll buy that. So where does that leave us? How the hell are we supposed to turn Cas back to normal? We can't just keep him in there till he grows up," Dean said gesturing toward the bunker.

"No," Crowley said slowly, "but we have a far more pressing problem than your strange parental tendencies. Thing is, no angel can just walk out of hell either. The others aren't under as many locks as Lucifer but that doesn't mean they aren't in their own cages and, considering the lack of body count, I think it's safe to say none of them have broken out yet. So the question remains. How did one of them manage to capture your archangel AND turn our intrepid friend here into an extra on Sesame Street?" The demon sighed and raised his chin slightly. "Tell you what. I'm going to go poke around and see what I can stir up. Something this big isn't going to be flying entirely under the radar so it's just a matter of finding out who is willing to talk. If a fallen angel is indeed behind this, then he has to be getting help from someone. In the meantime, you three just keep baby wings in there under lock and key." He turned and started heading calmly for the stairs, pausing only when Dean's voice called after him.

"What? That's it? You're just gonna help us? Bullshit. What's the catch?" Dean said.

"No catch, gentlemen. Let's just say I have my own plans for the new regime going in and it's in my best interests to find out what the other players are up to." Crowley paused and offered a knowing smile, "That is, unless you're willing to sweeten the deal some. Baby angels _**are**_ pretty rare." He chuckled at the murderous look that crossed Sam's face as the young man jiggled the knife eagerly in his hand. "I'd even be willing to throw in, say, a certain soul you want back." Sam took a menacing step forward and Dean cocked the hammer back on the colt. "No? Didn't think so. And if I can't have him, I'd just as soon not let anyone else get their hands on him either so stay here, do what you do best, and try not to cock it up." With that, Crowley headed up the stairway as the Winchesters exchanged frustrated glances and when they looked back the stairs were empty.

As much as it irked them to admit that Crowley was right, all three hunters agreed wholeheartedly that the best place to keep Castiel safe was to keep him in the bunker until they could figure out their next move. The sigils painted on every wall would hide the infant from both demon and angel alike and while the demons might know where he was, they wouldn't be able to get to him. Cots were dragged into the bunker and set up lining the walls since the house above wasn't necessarily safe for the evening and the three men agreed to venture forth for some provisioning in the morning. Dean scooped up Castiel once more and relaxed back onto his own narrow mattress, setting the child down on his chest where the infant immediately propped up onto his elbows and peered down at the wounded hunter. Bobby had done triage as usual to care for the worst of the injuries and the boys had cleaned off most of the blood in the small sink the bunker housed before settling in for the rest of the night. Small bruises still littered Dean's face though and he smiled fondly as Castiel reached out to brush one of them hesitantly. The pain lessened ever so slightly under the gentle brush of fingers and the hunter wondered if this was the first signs of an angel's healing powers. He had been patched back up by Castiel in the past but it had usually taken only a touch to do so and he doubted the infant could do the same now.

Dean could hear the creak of Bobby's cot as he lay down for a few well earned hours of sleep and when Sam flicked out the lights, he found himself staring up at a glow slightly brighter than a nightlight. The constant luminance of Castiel's wings had been less pronounced in the ambient light of the upstairs bedroom but within the sealed confines of the bunker, it was far more noticeable. The heavy darkness seemed to draw back from around the child and everything in the bunker was lit in shades of soft white. Dean could see Sam out of the corner of his eye as his brother rolled over on his own cot to face the source of that illumination and when he looked over it was to find his brother smiling despite the bruises they both shared. They didn't need to say it aloud but both of them were in silent agreement that the fight had been more than worth it. Dean reached up and brushed his finger down Cas's side, just below where his tiny wing had come to rest and the infant lifted the appendage automatically, it's feathers stretching out, setting the glow in the room to wavering in a way that reminded Dean of spotlights under water. Dean grinned in spite of himself and repeated the action on the other side, earning him the same reaction. Castiel lifted one arm and tucked his head to peer down at one of the hands which had disrupted his wings but he didn't seem the least bit perturbed by it and when he finally looked up at Dean again, he cocked his head to the side inquisitively. The small wings lifted high on his back and fluttered a few times in a move so bird-like that Dean half expected to hear the angel chirp. The smile that had plastered itself to his face grew even wider at the sight and suddenly, in that face of that innocence, the nightmare of all the demons outside seemed terribly far away. He tucked a protective arm around the infant to keep him from rolling off in the night and scooted down farther into his mattress, his eyes closing with the tug of sleep. As he drifted off once more, the thought only vaguely occurred to him how strange it was that he could sleep so easily after what they had just faced but it filtered away in the hushed whisper of flapping wings and soothing light.

The next morning Dean shifted awake, his body stretching out in tandem with a long yawn but as he ran a hand over his face it occurred to him that there was a conspicuous absence of weight on his chest and he flew bolt upright in his cot. His head snapped around frantically for a moment until he noticed Sam sitting in the middle of the floor with Castiel. The angel had seemingly grown once again and he was fully sitting upright now, looking for all the world like he'd easily aged another two months overnight. His tiny hands were locked onto each of Sam's index fingers as the hunter lifted them over the child's head in an attempt to get him to try standing but Cas was having none of it and was simply sitting on the floor, staring up at Sam with an unfathomable look on his face. "Come on, Cas. You can do this. Just give it a try," Sam was urging quietly, a smile on his face and more joy in his voice than Dean had heard in quite some time. It struck him as somehow funny that the ex-demonblood junkie was trying to teach the angel to stand but his smile faltered as memories of what they faced last night came washing back in. Castiel's presence in their lives again was comforting in a strange way but Dean had to remind himself that the infant sitting in the floor with his brother wasn't really a child; he was an angel of the lord and had, more recently than Dean really wanted to think about, been fighting at their side as an ally against overwhelming odds. More importantly, that angel was now in a world of trouble and on the shopping list of everything with horns and a tail.

Bobby's cot was empty when Dean glanced over and he cleared his throat to catch Sam's attention at last. "Mornin'," he said groggily, his voice rough with sleep, "Where'd Bobby get to?" Sam grinned up at him and Dean had a flashback to the days it had been _him_ sitting in the floor trying to teach his brother to stand up. That bright smile hadn't really appeared over the years as much as Dean would have liked but when it did show up, it was just as vibrant as ever and he couldn't help returning it. It was worth all the world to him to see that joy on his little brother's face.

"He's upstairs. He wanted to see if he could put together some breakfast while you were still asleep," Sam said cheerfully before turning his attention back to Cas. "Does it look like he got bigger to you?"

Dean nodded and slid to his feet. "Yeah, same thing happened night before last too. He's sort of growing faster than a normal kid but I can't tell if that's from the spell wearing off or if it's something all baby angels do." He paused as the smell of bacon wafted down through the partially cracked door of the bunker and his stomach growled eagerly. "Oh man. Tell me he's got biscuits going up there."

Sam chuckled and pried his fingers loose to scoop Castiel up into his arms. The infant didn't seem at all fazed by the smell of the cooking food but Dean was practically drooling as he stood forlornly at the doorway and looked back at his brother. "It's fine, Dean," Sam laughed, "I'll stay here with Cas. You go check on breakfast. You know Bobby's just going to kick you out though, right?"

Dean's smile was the epitome of mischief as he backed out of the door. "Yeah, but I might be able to snag a piece of bacon before he can throw anything at me." With that, Dean disappeared back upstairs leaving Sam to look after Cas by himself. He eased down onto Bobby's vacated cot and both he and the angel looked up expectantly as they waited for the inevitable. Sure enough, a few moments later Bobby's voice rang out through the house in a plethora of colorful threats followed by the sound of something being tossed across the kitchen and the subsequent sound of someone thundering back down the stairs. Dean popped back in a moment later with a piece of bacon in his hand and another sticking triumphantly from his mouth. "Totally worth it," he crowed as he chewed happily.

Bobby appeared a few minutes afterward with a plate balanced in each hand and shot a scowl at Dean. "If you'da just waited a dang minute, I was gonna bring it down here anyway," he growled shoving the plate in Dean's direction.

The older Winchester grinned as he took the offered food. "Yeah, but pilfered bacon just tastes better."

Bobby seemed less than amused as he all but jammed the second plate toward Sam and then stormed off again upstairs, grumbling under his breath the whole way. The brothers exchanged easy smiles and sat back to enjoy their meal. Eventually Bobby returned with his own plate and the three chatted easily about everything and anything except the new trouble they were facing. It was a much needed break for all of them but sadly it had to come to an end and eventually they set to making plans for how to avoid trouble while waiting on Crowley.


	9. Chapter 9: Unannounced Guest

**A/N:** Per a request, I have included, for your squee enjoyment, a laughing Castiel. I hope it's as fun to read as it was to write. XD Again, much MUCH thanks to all those who have commented on this story. You guys are awesome. ^_^

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After some debate on the subject, it was decided that the best course of action would be for the brothers to take Castiel on the run, trying to stay off the demon's radar until Crowley returned with the information they would need to take their fight on the offensive. Bobby's house had been marked now and they knew it wouldn't be long until more demons came looking in the hopes of getting their hands on the angel. Supplies were running low though and the older hunter agreed to wait behind with Cas while Dean and Sam made a quick run for the salt and ammo they would need while hiding out. Taking Cas with them would prove an unnecessary risk no one was willing to take after the brutal assault the night before and everyone involved decided it was better for him to wait within the safety of the bunker until their return.

Bobby sat back on his cot with a sawed off shotgun perched across his lap and heaved a sigh as the door was pulled shut behind Sam, sealing him inside. He looked over at the room's only other occupant who was sitting on Dean's pillow, casting a longing stare in the direction the brothers had gone. His little head turned as if realizing he was being watched and he met Bobby's gaze evenly, his wings the only sign of emotion as they flicked once and then stilled. The grizzled hunter smiled and made his way over to where the infant was sitting, plopping down onto the mattress beside him. "Looks like it's jus' you an' me for a while," he said, to which the only response was a slight tilt of Castiel's head. "Not much of a conversationalist," Bobby continued though he knew full well he wasn't going to get an answer, "but then you weren't mucha one when you were big either." Castiel blinked at him silently. "You know, you got us into a whole new mess a trouble. I swear, every time one'a you angels shows up, it's bad news." A single wing twitched. "Don't you people ever show up to save the day or make people's lives better?" Bobby paused and thumped his head back against the wall. "Guess that ain't really fair, seein' as yer the only angel that's ever done anything good by us." He placed the shotgun down against the side of his leg opposite of Castiel and stared up at the devil's trap etched into the ceiling. "But it wouldn't kill ya ta stop by every now and again just ta say hello either, ya know. I know it'd mean somethin' to Dean and Sam. Seems like the only time you show up is when thing's are goin' to hell. Literally. Those boys look on you as a friend. Might be nice for you ta figure out if you feel the same."

Bobby trailed off as he felt a small hand close around his index finger and he looked down in time to watch Castiel's fumbling attempts to crawl into his lap. The angel's knee slipped as he climbed, sending the infant sprawling across Bobby's leg but he quickly pushed himself back up and tried again, his tiny wings fluttering with the effort. The hunter reached down and gently hoisted the child up so that Cas could get his feet under him but the minute any weight was put onto the chubby little legs, they faltered and Cas sank down to Bobby's lap. He scooted forward and cuddled into the warm flannel shirt beneath his cheek and any irritation Bobby might have felt in that moment melted away. "Ya did that on purpose," he said with a chuckle. Castiel looked up at him and blinked innocently in response. The hunter brought one hand up to cup the back of the angel's head and it struck Bobby just how large it looked by comparison. Thick tufts of dark hair jutted out between the man's fingers and he brushed them down, marveling at how soft they were. He had never had children of his own but he had always looked on John Winchester's boys as the closest he would ever get to having sons. Still, he hadn't been a part of their lives when they had been as young as Castiel was now and he found himself a little more wistful than he'd expected in the face of what he knew now he would never have.

Castiel's wings tucked in around him slightly as he relaxed into the affection he was receiving and Bobby brought his other hand up to support the infant further. It was to his surprise when one wing slipped down and the feathers came to rest as light as snow on the top of his wrist. He froze so as not to scare the infant into withdrawing the wing again and looked down at the delicate appendage with renewed curiosity. Thin feathers seemed to be sprouting right out of the skin where the wings attached, growing out into fluffy down at the upper edge and then giving way to longer flight feathers at the bottom. The wings felt almost weightless against Bobby's arm and he couldn't help wondering how long it was supposed to take before angels learned to fly. He looked up at the ceiling again and a thought struck him. Deciding that it couldn't hurt to try, he gently drew the child up into his arms and stood, moving out to the center of the floor. He slowly boosted the infant up above his head until his arms were fully stretched and watched the child's face intently for any sign of discomfort. Castiel hung limply for a moment in obvious confusion and then glanced around him as if seeing the room for the first time. Satisfied that he wasn't displaying any signs of fear, the hunter jiggled him a little. Castiel's wings flicked with interest and Bobby grinned. "Well go on and flap 'em, son. I ain't gonna let ya fall." Cas looked down at the sound of Bobby's voice but didn't seem to understand what was being asked of him at first. The hunter playfully drew in and then extended his arms again at which point Castiel gave a few quick flaps of his wings as if to steady himself. A slight smile curved the infant's lips and he drew his knees to his chest to peer shyly out from behind them. Bobby chuckled and repeated the gesture again. He was rewarded when Castiel fluttered his wings in a sure sign he was enjoying the game.

Bobby tried a third time but switched tactics by spinning in a short circle as he lifted the angel up. This time there was a brief but definitive burst of what sounded suspiciously like a giggle. The sound was so mirthful and innocent that the hunter couldn't help returning it with a laugh of his own. The pair repeated the game a few more times, each successive turn gaining another short burst of infectious giggles, until Bobby was dizzy from spinning about. He chuckled quietly and drew the infant back in, setting him against his shoulder, and was met with a bright smile from Castiel who tucked his head bashfully and curled under Bobby's chin. The hunter was fairly certain by then that an infant angel's laughter had to be one of the most addictive things he'd ever heard and he wondered if there was anything actually supernatural about it as he felt more light-hearted despite their circumstances than he had in quite some time. Considering that it was more than possible since so little was known about baby celestials, Bobby decided it certainly wasn't the worst magic he'd ever discovered and he flopped back down on his cot to wait for his head to stop spinning.

The sound of someone moving around in the house upstairs caught Bobby's attention a few minutes later and he instantly stilled, listening intently. He looked over at Castiel as a gauge of whether their guest was a threat or not but the infant didn't react the way he had when the demons had been about before and Bobby figured it must be Sam and Dean having returned from their excursion. He playfully ruffled the angel's hair as he waited for the pair to make their way down to him. He hated to admit it but a part of him wasn't looking forward to Castiel's leaving. Still, he couldn't deny that as much as the angel's current incarnation was enjoyable, it wasn't meant to last and they needed to get their heavenly friend back to normal as fast as possible. A thought struck him and Bobby cleared his throat uncertainly. "Uh…I don't know if you're gonna remember any of this when we get you back ta normal but…uh…let's just pretend this whole you n me gigglin' like two little girls thing didn't happen, ok?" He genuinely hoped that the angel would retain no memory of his time as an infant since it would prove rather embarrassing for them both and he wasn't sure how he would look the other man in the eye again if things worked out otherwise. His thoughts were interrupted with the squeal of metal on metal as the handle was turned and the heavy metal door swung in a few inches. It stopped there however and simply sat partially open with no sign of further entry. "Dean? Sam?" Bobby called warily. He set Castiel down on the mattress next to him and stood, retrieving his shotgun from Dean's bunk before cautiously approaching the door.

There was no answer from the room beyond and Bobby felt his stomach sink. Sam and Dean knew he was armed and knew better than to play stupid pranks on him in situations like this. There were simply some things that were unspoken rules among hunters and scaring another hunter, even as a joke, was frowned upon heavily. After all, it was never a good idea to startle a group a people known for shooting first and asking questions later. Bobby tightened his grip on the gun as he eased closer, his ears straining to pick up anything out of the ordinary. He glanced back to ensure that his young charge was still where he left him and, satisfied that Castiel hadn't moved, he reached tentatively for the door. With a final bracing inhale, Bobby yanked the door open the rest of the way and leveled his shotgun out into the room in the same heartbeat. It was empty. Bobby slowly approached the opening and turned in both directions to see if he could find the source of the disturbance but nothing out of the ordinary caught his eye. With one last look at Castiel, the hunter eased out into the room, carefully checking every nook and cranny as he went. He knew the demons couldn't get Cas inside the bunker but he didn't want Dean and Sam to come back and walk right in to a trap either. Step by step, Bobby cleared the room and, once satisfied that there wasn't anyone down there, he began to work his way up the stairs. The door at the top stood slightly ajar as well and Bobby paused once again to listen for any sign of someone upstairs. Silence met his ears and he edged up a few more steps. He never saw the man unfold himself from the small crawl space under the stairwell nor did he see the crowbar that swung at the back of his head until it was too late.

Bobby's body crumpled to the stairs and his attacker, a young man in his early twenties, stepped aside to let the hunter roll past him. The intruder, one Edward Vans by name, tried to still his shaking hands as he stared wide-eyed at the limp form resting at the bottom of the stairs. He was dressed poorly in torn jeans and a baggy t-shirt and his haggard appearance showed all the telltale signs of years of heavy drug use. He looked up with bloodshot eyes and swallowed down the urge to wretch all over the floor. He'd never killed anyone before but it couldn't be helped, not in the face of a man with a gun, and Eddie repeated that mantra to himself as he moved back down the steps and carefully hopped over Bobby's still form. He headed at once for the metal door set into the far wall and stepped inside to claim what he'd come for. There sitting still as a photo on the cot opposite him was an infant boy, watching him with bright blue eyes. Eddie looked back furtively over his shoulder to ensure his path was clear and then raced over to the child. Castiel craned up to look at the newcomer but he made a small uncertain noise as he looked around the man to where Bobby had disappeared. "Hey little guy," Eddie crooned in a shaking voice, "we're gonna go for a walk now, ok?" He reached down and took hold of the infant's arms but froze in place at the sight of the small glowing wings when they fluttered at the sudden touch. His eyes grew wide and he gulped a few lungfuls of air like a drowning man, unsure how to deal with this change in situation. "Please not now," he whispered as he squeezed his eyes shut. He'd had hallucinations before when the meth had worn too thin in his blood but he couldn't afford to let his mind play tricks on him at a time like this. When he opened his eyes again however, the tiny infant was still looking up at him perplexed by the strange man clutching his arms and the little wings were still there, glowing like they were made of sunshine.

Eddie blinked rapidly a few times and tried every trick he usually used to push away the hallucinations but the wings remained firmly in place and by the time he realized it wasn't all in his head, the little boy was squirming unhappily in his grip. Castiel tugged for all he was worth but he couldn't dislodge himself and after a few moments he stilled again. He was rewarded a moment later when Eddie released one of his arms but his relief was short-lived as a hand wrapped painfully around his wing instead. Eddie took the appendage in his grip, spreading it out and marveling at the glowing feathers heedless of the high distressed noises the tiny angel was making. He pressed the soft feathers between his fingers and rubbed at them to assure himself what he was seeing was indeed real, eliciting a quiet pained cry from the infant, and then turned the wing to examine the other side of it. Castiel pushed futilely at the offending arm and scrambled as best he could to dislodge himself but to no avail. He let out a strained whimper and his free wing fluttered about, slapping against the mattress as Eddie pushed him onto his side to get a better look. The sound of a shotgun being racked sounded from the open doorway and Eddie halted his examination immediately in favor of slowly looking back over his shoulder. Bobby stood with his shotgun at the ready, the entire right side of his face smeared in blood, and an expression of pure murderous intent on his face. "You shoulda made sure I was dead," he growled dangerously, "Now git yer filthy hands off that angel."

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When Sam and Dean finally returned, Bobby met them at the front door and filled them in on what had happened. It took some convincing, several threats, and a little bodily restraint for him to keep the brothers from murdering the intruder on the spot but eventually he calmed them down enough to feel it was safe to let them into the room Eddie was being kept in. The young man had been tied hand and foot to a chair in Bobby's study after the hunter had thoroughly tested him for signs of demonic possession. Despite the fact that he had proven to be utterly human, Bobby had taken the care to place him under the devil's trap painted into the ceiling anyway and Eddie's arms bore the thin cuts where he's been tested for any reactions to silver. Dean stood across from him with his arms folded as he leaned back against a short bookshelf. Sam had taken to pacing back and forth with a look that said he was still trying to convince himself killing the man wasn't a good idea, a problem made only worse when Bobby re-entered the room a few moments later with Castiel only to have the angel take one look at Eddie and begin squirming in his attempts to crawl over Bobby's shoulder and put as much distance between himself and the intruder as possible. He let out a few nervous whimpers as Bobby pulled him back down and cradled him gently in the crook of his shoulder. Sam's jaw clenched tightly and he shot a look at Eddie that suggested he was willing him to implode.

Bobby, sensing that Castiel's reaction might cause Sam to lose what little grip he was maintaining on his temper, walked over to the young man and gestured for him to take the angel. Sam cast one last sidelong glance at the intruder before reaching down to heft the infant from Bobby's arms. His expression changed right away as he tried to comfort his squirming friend and he took great care to avoid the little wings that Castiel had sealed tightly against his body. The child crawled as far up onto Sam's shoulder as he could manage and balled himself up against the hunter's neck. Sam could feel the slight tremble working its way across the angel's form and he shot Eddie another look that spoke volumes about what he'd like to be doing at that moment. Eddie recoiled in the face of that open rage and turned to the other brother instead. If he had hoped for a better reception he was in for a great deal of disappointment. Dean was glaring holes through him and it was Bobby that seemed to be the only one in the room at that moment not intent on tossing him into a shallow grave. The older hunter stepped into his field of view, his shotgun held at the ready. "You ain't exactly in the best'a company right now, son. If I were you, I'd start talkin'."

"Who sent you?" Dean interrupted tersely.

Eddie's eyes shot from one person to another as he tried to work out exactly how precarious his situation had become. Judging from the looks being cast in his direction which ranged from utter disgust to downright homicidal urge he came to the quick conclusion that cowardice was the better part of survival. "He said he'd reward me," he babbled, "Said it was an easy job. Just go into the basement and pick up the kid. That's it. Said you guys had kidnapped some rich kid and he was working for the dad trying to get him back. Said he'd pay me part of the reward if I just went in and got him. The kid was in the basement, for christ's sake. What was I supposed to think? I wasn't gonna hurt him. I swear." The words spilled forth faster and faster until he was practically tripping over himself to get them out.

"YOU DID HURT HIM," Sam bellowed angrily and Dean could tell from the look on his brother's face that the only thing keeping Eddie in good health was the fact that any motion in the intruder's direction elicited thin unhappy whimpers from Castiel.

"I didn't mean to," Eddie said quickly, "I've just never seen someone with WINGS before, man! I mean, come on, can you really blame…me…" his words died as Dean took a menacing step forward, restrained only by Bobby's hand slapping against his chest. "I didn't know it was an angel, ok? I swear. He didn't say it was an angel. He just said it was a kid, not a freakin' angel!"

"Who said that?" Bobby spoke up, cutting off what was no doubt a less than pleasant response from Dean.

"T-t-this guy," Eddie stammered, "I don't know his name. He came into the shelter. Walked right up to me. Started talkin' to me. I'm tryin' to get off the meth and he said he could help me. He just knew things, ya know? It was like he knew about my life, knew about everything that had happened to me. What he said made sense. That if I just did this one job he'd reward me." Eddie was practically falling over himself in his rush to explain what had happened. He could feel the need for a fix burning in his veins, it had been too long since his last one and his profuse sweating was quickly flushing out what little was left in his blood. "I swear ta god, man. I don't know his name. I didn't mean to hurt the kid. I swear." The addict was on the verge of tears by the time he finished, convinced that he was going to get snuffed out and left in a dumpster.

Dean snorted in disbelief and stalked from the room to grab a beer. His urge to just shoot the miserable bastard was becoming overwhelming. Sam simply shook his head, his face still tight with anger. Bobby was at least willing to buy part of the kid's story though and he lowered the shotgun to hang by his side. "All right, say we buy this cockamamie story of yours. Where were you supposed to take him?"

"There's a storehouse, over on 3rd. He said just bring the kid there. He'd bring the dad and I could collect the reward right then. That's it. That's all I know." Eddie sobbed.

Sam sighed in disgust and looked over at Dean who had come to lean in the open doorway. "I swear they're getting smarter," Dean said unhappily, "They know they can't get to him in the bunker so they sent a freakin' lackey to do it."

"Yeah but at least we have someplace to start now," Sam piped up, "Maybe we can find out who's behind this."

"All right, you two boys go meet up with our mystery man but be _careful_. We don't know what the hell we're up against yet. I'll stay here with Cas and the idjit until the police arrive," Bobby sighed. "And boys…anything with wings shows up, you hightail yer asses outta there."


	10. Chapter 10: Despite all my rage

**A/N:** Sorry for the slight delay in posting this one. Life happens and when I sat down to write again I found that the boys weren't being cooperative…or perhaps it was the demons not cooperating. Not sure. I just know that they were screwing with me. :/ Hope you enjoy this chapter anyway. A little more angst but again, gotta happen at some point. I promise there is a REASON behind all this angsting and all will become clear as the story unfolds. For those of you who made the comment that Eddie deserved more than what happened last chapter, the first paragraph of this one is just for you.

As always, comments are love and help encourage me. ^_^ Thank you ever so much to all those who have commented so far. You ALL rock.

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Sam and Dean headed out for the warehouse after making sure their friends were tucked safely away again and the intrepid kidnapper had learned the valuable if painful lesson that one should be careful what houses they break into. Dean had argued for what he felt was a suitable punishment, namely breaking both the guy's arms and potentially setting him on fire in the backyard while Sam had simply handed Cas back to Bobby and then turned to punch Eddie hard enough to send a molar skittering into one of the bookshelves. Neither of the other hunters could bring themselves to protest the action though Dean did argue that his brother should have aimed for something lower and more closely resembling a vital organ.

The drive to the warehouse had been filled with an angry silence and Dean glanced worriedly over at his brother as they pulled up across the street from their destination. Sam's jaw was set in a tight line and his eyes were glued straight ahead but it was obvious his mind was anywhere but there. Dean couldn't blame him, he had been pretty pissed off about what had happened to Cas too, but the angel was ok and things for _them_ were about to get a lot more dangerous. He needed Sam's head to be in the game. "Don't worry about it, Sammy," he said in his best 'big brother' voice, "We'll find this SOB and send his ass straight back to hell with an express ticket." When Sam didn't answer Dean's brow furrowed in worry. "Sam? Come on, man, don't start the silent treatment on me now."

Sam sighed through his nose and looked over at his brother. Dean couldn't remember when the little kid who used to follow him everywhere had turned into the angry young man before him but there was no doubt that Sam wasn't a child anymore. They had both been through too much to maintain that kind of naiveté. "I'm just sick of this shit, Dean," he said in a quiet tense voice that left Dean feeling like there was a whole world of something ugly pent up behind it. He was almost afraid to see what would happen if Sam let it out. "How long are we supposed to keep doing this? I'm tired of being heaven's bitch boy. I mean, how many damned leaks in hell are we gonna have to plug before demons stop finding ways to escape?" The young Winchester went quiet again and looked out the passenger window toward the warehouse beyond. A company logo proclaiming the building as having once belonged to 'Templeton Industries' was still barely visible on the outside wall written in swirling red paint that had long since begun to peel and fade. There wasn't any sign of demons but that didn't mean they weren't still around. Sam's stomach clenched as he thought of Castiel being brought to that place with its mildewed walls and cracked cement. It was one thing for the angel to have to come here as an adult, he and the Winchesters had been in much worse places, but as a child there was something helpless and lost about Cas that stirred up every protective instinct Sam had.

There had been a time before things got too complicated when he and his brother had driven across the whole country helping people who couldn't defend themselves. He mused that perhaps that was why he felt so strongly about his friend's situation. Cas had become the very embodiment of every person he'd ever cared about and failed to save, every innocent who had cried out for his protection only to be let down, and Sam couldn't bear that happening again. Especially not since the person he was trying to protect was the same one who had fought his way through hell itself to save _**him**_. When everyone but Bobby and his brother would have walked away, Castiel, an angel of the lord, one of the most pure creatures in existence, had risked himself to pull the demon-blood tainted abomination that was Sam Winchester out of the pit and Sam wasn't about to let him down now that their roles had been reversed.

"I don't know, Sam," Dean said, cutting into his brother's thoughts, "but what choice do we have? We can't just let 'em turn Cas into a lunchable."

"Not gonna happen," Sam whispered.

"Sam. Don't do anything stupid in there, ok? Promise me." Dean watched his brother closely. The intensity on Sam's face was disconcerting and Dean worried that his brother might be a lot more damaged than he'd originally thought. They had been hunting together for the last year and he hadn't noticed anything too out of the ordinary about the younger man but if he was honest with himself, he knew he had been all to happy to accept that without question. No one sees the horror of the abyss without being changed to some degree but Dean hadn't pressed and Sam hadn't offered. On some level he hadn't wanted to know what his little brother had suffered because he knew what had awaited him there in the darkness and didn't want to think of his Sammy that way. He didn't want to know if Sam had broken on the rack like he had, if he had stepped down and taken up the whip, because it would mean looking at his little brother through different eyes and that prospect terrified him more than anything Alastair had ever put him through. Sam turned and looked at him and then climbed out of the car without another word. "SAMMY!" Dean called out as the door slammed in his face, "God DAMMIT." He hurried out of his own seat and rushed to catch up to his brother who was already approaching the warehouse door, drawing his knife as he went.

Sam pulled to a stop right in front of the entrance, his hand hovering over the knob, and then looked back again at where Dean stood eyeing him warily. The anger had drained some from the younger Winchester's face. "I'm sorry, Dean. I don't know what got into me. I'm just…I'm just tired." Sam ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes, willing down the rage that he could feel pushing up from inside. Dean's hand landed on his shoulder and when he opened his eyes it was to meet his brother's steady gaze.

"I know, Sam," Dean said quietly, "I am too." A whole world of communication passed in those few simple words but neither brother had to say anything else. It was unspoken that Dean would always be there for him without question and he knew as well that his brother was the only other being in the world who understood what he meant by 'tired'. Sam offered his brother a sad smile and Dean replied with a bolstering grin. "Now let's cut this Hallmark shit out and go kill some demons. Then we can go get some icecream afterwards."

Sam chuckled. "I'm not five any more, Dean. You don't need to take me out for icecream."

"Who said it was for you?" Dean said indignantly, "**I** want icecream."

Sam snorted in disbelief but as he followed Dean into the cool darkness of the warehouse there was a smile spread over his face regardless. As the door shut behind them and their eyes began to adjust to the dim light, the brothers could make out the shapes of long abandoned storage racks bolted into the walls on either side of the vast expanse they had stepped into. They found themselves standing atop a concrete plinth a good five feet above the rest of the warehouse floor and steps descended away from them a few feet ahead. A row of dark windows marked the offices at the back of the room. It was toward these that Dean began to slowly creep, his gun at the ready. The first proved to be utterly empty as was the second but just as he was about to decide Eddie had lied to them he heard the almost inaudible shuffle of feet from within the third office. The shades had been drawn on the room to keep the brothers from seeing what was inside but Dean had no doubts at all that any demons in the area were well aware of the hunters' presence. He glanced back at Sam and without a word his brother moved to the other side of the doorway. Sam gave a curt nod to indicate he was ready and in the next second Dean kicked the door in, tucking into a roll and coming up in the opposite corner of the office. He was met with only darkness and silence. Sam flicked on the light just inside the doorway and both brothers took in the stark barren room they found themselves in.

There was no sign of demons and no places for them to easily hide since most of the furniture in the room had long since been removed. Dean sighed and grumbled under his breath. He could still make out the scuff of shoes in the dust on the floor indicating that whoever had been there had left right before they had entered the room and for what would not be the first nor the last time, he cursed the demon ability of vanishing into thin air. His frustration was short lived however as Sam let out a harsh grunt and from the corner of his eye Dean could see his brother's body jerk backward. He whipped around and leveled the gun at the set of hate-filled black eyes staring back at him over Sam's shoulder. A gun was held firmly under his brother's jawline, pressing into the skin hard enough to cause a wince to run across the young man's face. The demon behind him smiled vilely and winked at Dean. "Why if it isn't the prodigal sons," it purred, "We've been expecting you." Dean could hear the sound of several other people moving into the room behind the demon and he cussed himself for walking right into the trap.

Sam's face had flattened into an impassive mask, marred only by an occasional twitch of pain when the gun dug too deeply against his throat. Every fiber of his being had gone tense with a potent mixture of anger and apprehension and he shuffled backward stiffly as the demon holding him began backing away from Dean. The older Winchester slowly followed, his fingers itching around the grip of his gun as he tried to figure out what their chances were and what was the best way to get the demon off of Sam. He couldn't risk the monster getting too far away as it would make helping his brother more difficult but soon he found himself out in the middle of the warehouse floor with demons slowly closing the circle behind him. Trapped in the middle of the ring, Dean should have been terrified, but he was a hunter, and more importantly a Winchester, and all he felt right then was a swell of irritation. "Ok," he snapped, "You have our attention. What the hell do you want?"

The demon smiled patronizingly. "You already know what we want. I had very little confidence that the useless meatsack we sent to your hideout would actually succeed but we knew you two would show up here if he didn't. You're _so_ reliable."

Dean tried not to sigh. He should have known better. The demons really _were_ getting more clever. "Gee, thanks. I'll call you when I need a job reference," he said dryly. "But since you seem to know oh so much about us, then you also know you bit off a whole lot more than you can chew. See, we kicked your _daddy's_ ass back to the pit so what makes you think you stand any more of a chance?"

The reference to the defeat of Lucifer got a definite rise out of the horde surrounding the brothers. As the words left his mouth, Dean could hear the rumble of several growls aimed in his direction. "Cocky little shit, aren't you?" the lead demon hissed, "But it doesn't matter. You won last time because you had angels helping you. You won because Lucifer didn't want to simply snuff you out. He liked you, Dean. And Sam here," he nudged again at the young man's neck, craning up to place his mouth right next to Sam's ear, "well, Sam was supposed to be his date for the apocalypse but since that didn't work out quite the way we hoped, we've moved on to plan B. Everything's in place, we just need the last key ingredient…your little choir boy."

Sam's eyes narrowed and he took a few deep breaths through his nose as his rage notched up a peg. "Not gonna happen," he growled, repeating his earlier mantra from the car.

The demon huffed a quiet laugh and cocked the pistol in his hand. "Oh, I think it will. See, we're going to go right back to your friend's house and see who he'd rather watch die. You or the angel. I'm betting he can't bring himself to watch you get blown away, especially since I'll make sure you go straight back down to the pit and _this time_ there won't be any holy interference to pull you out of the fire." The creature rolled its eyes back to Dean. "Thing is…I don't need **both** of you for this."

Dean took a step back as the demons around him chuckled in dark glee and began to close in. He looked around, quickly counting how many of them there were, and then mentally calculated how many bullets he had available. He would be short by two. "Damn," he said quietly right before the first demon lunged at him. The next moment was a blur of activity as Dean turned and began firing into his attackers but none of them were easy targets as they weren't all stupid enough to stand still and be shot the way he was hoping for. None the less, years of practice meant the bullets were still finding their marks and as Dean struggled ferociously beneath the onslaught, the demon holding Sam offered the perfect opportunity for escape. So wrapped up in the action was he that he didn't see Sam's fist until it was buried in his face. The young man used his other hand to simultaneously wrench the gun up and away from him where it fired uselessly into the air. The shot was enough to distract Dean who paid for his glance in Sam's direction by taking a heavy blow to the side of the head but though he stumbled, he managed to keep his feet and his next shot sent the attacker back to the depths.

Sam wheeled around and his captor suddenly found himself face to face with over six foot of very angry hunter. It was a short lived situation as the demon killing knife found its way into his eye up to the hilt. Sam wrenched the blade back out, letting his victim collapse behind him without a second glance as he turned and ran to his brother's aid. Dean had fallen beneath the torrent of clawing hands that had piled atop him and though he was still managing to kill more than his fair share of the vile creatures, he was taking more wounds than he would have liked. Blood ran freely down his shirt collar from where a woman's fingernails had raked over the skin of his neck and his left eye was quickly swelling shut from a well aimed punch. He looked up to find a demon hovering over him, a sharp piece of metal in its hand from some shelf it had torn asunder in the search for a weapon and Dean knew he wouldn't be able to bring his gun up in time. His eyes went wide as the blade began to descend but the demon stopped short, a look of surprise on its face, as something pierced through the front of its throat. It blinked in confusion for a moment before the flare of light beneath its skin signaled its death and the object in its throat was torn back out the way it had come in. As the demon fell away Dean found himself looking up instead into the eyes of his brother, the bloody knife still caught in his grip and a look on his face so fierce that Dean found himself recoiling from it. Sam lunged immediately for the next demon and, while his brother watched horrified, he tore it asunder like a rag doll, the knife carving away at vulnerable skin.

There was no sign of Sam actually drinking the blood, something Dean was careful to keep watch for, but the ferocity of the attack bordered on the rabid and the older hunter found himself calling Sam's name in an attempt to get him to stop. When all but one of the demons had been slaughtered, the young man finally did pause, his blood soaked hand wrapped tightly in the creature's hair as he bent the woman's head back almost far enough to break her neck. "WHO SENT YOU?" he snarled at her, "What do you want with Cas?" Dean kneeled speechless on the floor and watched the scene unfold with mute revulsion.

The demon shook her head. "I am but the servant of the servant," she whispered cryptically, "he is coming, he cannot be stopped, and you will bring death to all you love, Sam Winchester."

Sam's face fell and the rage seemed to drain away, leaving him panting and shaking his head. "No," he said in a wavering voice, "you're wrong." With that, he slit the demon's throat wide and turned away from her to collect himself. Dean sat frozen where he was, his eyes locked on Sam as the young man paced a few feet. His face had drained of blood and he looked pale and scared under the meager lights still coming from the open office in the back. The expression on his face was as if he had just woken from a bad dream as he glanced about at the carnage left in his wake. He looked down at his trembling hands with revulsion and then carefully knelt to wipe the blade off onto the jacket of a dead demon. "I…I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly, "I don't…"

Dean rose almost silently from his position on the floor and approached his brother warily. When he finally reached the young man's side, Sam looked up at him with open concern written over his face. It was painfully evident that he had just realized the amount of damage he'd done. Dean grabbed his arm and hauled his little brother back to his feet. He put on the best smile he could manage and nodded, making every effort not to look down at any of the gore surrounding them. "S'ok, Sam. Come on. Let's just…let's just head back to Bobby's." Sam nodded and numbly followed Dean back out into the blinding sunlight of the afternoon. Despite the heat rolling up off the pavement below, he found himself still shaking as he climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala. He didn't say anything as Dean pulled out and began driving them back in the direction of their friend's house, his mind too preoccupied trying to figure out what had just happened.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam finally whispered again a few minutes later, "I don't know what happened. I just…I was so angry and I don't even know why. God…I…I tore those people apart, Dean. What the hell is wrong with me?"

Dean reached over and patted his brother's shoulder without taking his eyes off the road. "I don't know. I mean, you've been through a lot. Maybe it's just, ya know, pent up anger or something from your time in hell. Who knows, Sam. Just don't beat yourself up over it."

"You went to hell too, Dean. You never went crazy like that," Sam said quietly.

"Yeah, well, there were times I would have liked to," Dean confessed as bravely as he could, "Look, just don't go all Alfred Hitchcock on me anymore and we'll pretend this didn't happen, ok? And next time you feel that angry, masturbate or something. It's healthier."

Sam snorted in amusement despite the cold lump that had settled into the base of his stomach. His brother had always had a way of making light of almost any situation and right then Sam was admittedly grateful for it. Dean pulled off into a gas station to let him wash the copious amounts of dried blood off his hands and face thought there wasn't much they could do about Sam's shirt or jeans. When he returned to the car it was to find Dean waiting with a swirl cone in each hand from a small Dairy Queen across the street. The sight brought a much needed smile to Sam's face and he willfully pushed the horror of the warehouse to the back of his mind. He decided he would think about it later, when he was around Cas again since the angel's presence seemed to have a calming effect and as they headed once more for Bobby's, Sam found himself looking forward to seeing the infant more than he would admit, even if it was only for the selfish reason that Cas would keep the rage at bay.


	11. Chapter 11: Comfort

**A/N:** So yeah, haven't posted for a bit. Sorry about that. Got swept up in something else but I'm trying to at least get some of this chapter out for you. I had much bigger plans for this chapter but I think it may have to wait till chapter 12 as I have a fever and am struggling to get this part written. Either way, just enjoy some adorableness for a little while and I promise that next chapter will be more plot. I'm so sorry this isn't more than some light fluff but I hope the inclusion of Wee!Cas will make it at least bearable. I'll try again at chapter 12 tomorrow. So again, I'm terribly sorry this chapter is so short. I just don't feel good and don't want to throw something down when I have so much planned for this.

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As soon as the car pulled into Bobby's driveway, Sam was already pulling his seatbelt off and practically racing up the steps. Dean quirked an eyebrow and shook his head as he watched his brother disappear into the confines of the house. Sam's rush to get back to Cas struck him as a _little_ odd but he too wanted to make sure their friend was still ok all things considered and he hurried along after him. Sam tried to slow his pace somewhat as he found himself racing down the stairs. He made his way to the panic room and opened the door to find Bobby leaning back on his cot with Castiel perched on his lap. Bobby had been in the middle of saying something but his voice died off as the door opened and both he and Cas turned to see who had entered. The shotgun was sitting close to the hunter's side and as he recognized Sam in the doorway, his fingers loosened from it once more, though it stayed well within easy reach. Castiel blinked up at the new arrival with solemn wide eyes and his wings flicked once in recognition. Sam instantly felt some of the tension ease out of his body at the sight of that tiny form. He made his way over and reached out to thumb over a shock of soft hair. The contact was instantly warming and Sam offered the child a sad smile. Bobby cleared his throat to catch Sam's attention and it was obvious the older man was taking stock of the dried blood that had soaked through his surrogate son's clothes. "The hell happened out there?" Bobby asked in a voice that said he was almost afraid of the answer, "You two ok?"

"Just the usual," Dean piped up from the doorway, causing every head in the room to turn and look at him, "gettin' our asses kicked a little, killin' demons, havin' icecream. You know. The normal." Sarcasm saturated every word and the young man leaned heavily against the doorframe. He was pretty sure he looked like as bad as he felt if the expression on Bobby's face was any indication.

"Well if one of you wanna take Cas here, I'll go get the first aid kit," Bobby said. He looked between the brothers for a moment but decided not to press on what happened; the boys would tell him in due time when they were ready. The words had barely left his mouth before Sam reached down to scoop the infant up into his arms. If Castiel minded the dried demon blood he didn't show it and he calmly situated himself into a comfortable position in the hunter's arms, his hands curling into the stained fabric without a second glance. For Sam it felt like someone had just pulled away a heavy blanket from the world and calmness washed over him. It was as if a light had been flicked on and in its glow he found himself trying to figure out why he had reacted so brutally in the warehouse. As he looked down and met Castiel's placid gaze, he knew that while he had been worried about the angel and had been angry over the threats to him, his reactions had been influenced by more than just that. It was as if someone had been holding a magnifying glass over his emotions and the thought bothered him.

As soon as Bobby left the room, Dean sauntered over to his brother. He wouldn't admit it but he felt a swell of relief in seeing the angel safe and sound just as much as Sam did. He knew Bobby wouldn't let anything happen to their friend but he still felt better just being near the angel as it meant he could actively protect the little guy. Castiel turned to look at him as he approached and the small head cocked to the side at the sight of all the new wounds. "Too bad you aren't big enough to fix these anymore," Dean griped, "I could use some instant angel healing." The infant simply blinked at him for a few brief moments and then reached out with one hand in a silent request to make contact. A smile curled the corner of Sam's mouth and he supported the angel with both hands as the infant leaned dangerously out toward Dean, his tiny wings flapping as if he could cross the distance to the other hunter on them.

"Hey, hey, whoa. I don't think you're big enough to be flying yet," Dean said brightly as he moved closer to the angel stretching out to him. As he closed the gap between them Cas reached out and took his face between tiny hands with a gentleness that surprised the older man. Chubby fingers brushed over the bruises and swollen skin in an exploratory search and everywhere they touched, the pain lessened to a degree. Apparently satisfied that he had carefully taken stock of Dean's injuries, Cas stretched up and petted the thick tufts of Dean's hair in a fumbling mimicry of what Bobby had done to comfort the angel earlier before easing back to curl once more against Sam's shoulder.

The action brought a delighted bark of laughter from Sam who found the whole scene to be too adorable for words. "Oh my god! I wish I'd had a camera! That was the cutest thing I've ever seen!" He grinned up at Dean who looked terribly bemused by the whole situation.

"Yeah, yeah. You're cute," Dean said begrudgingly though the smile on his face belied his attempts to play off the act, "But you're still a pain in the ass." Cas didn't look the least bit offended by the statement and instead offered Dean a soft smile partially hidden behind by his shoulder as the angel tucked his head down bashfully. His attention turned a moment later back toward Sam and he reached up with a note of hesitation before curling a hand into a stray lock of Sam's hair as if testing the difference between the brothers. Sam tilted his head down to make the exploration a little easier for the child in his arms and Cas brushed at the strands for a few seconds before glancing back at Dean with a look on his face that said he was trying to puzzle out the differences in his head.

The moment was interrupted as Bobby re-entered the room and an ice pack was tossed to Dean. "Here. Put that on yer eye or you'll have one heck of a shiner come tomorrow." Dean slapped the cold pack to his skin and grumbled under his breath, moving over to the cot none the less to let Bobby tend to him. Castiel watched with open curiosity as bandages and anti-bacterial ointments were applied to Dean's many scrapes and bruises and several times Sam was forced to catch him when the infant leaned forward too far in his interest over the whole process. When the young hunter was finally all bandaged up and the worst of his injuries had been seen to, the angel was passed over to him at Bobby's insistence so that Sam could change into something that didn't make him look like an extra from a horror movie. Bobby followed the young man from the room as well with an offer to make a quick meal for the boys to take on the road, leaving Dean sitting alone with Castiel as he waited for the two of them to return.

The angel was being exceptionally careful as he leaned against Dean's shoulder as if he understood on some level that the hunter was injured and he didn't want to hurt him further. Dean found himself staring back at the cherubic face turned toward him with obvious interest as his emotions warred for priority. Castiel was his friend, even if he was a very strange one, and as such he was admittedly worried about who or what had done this to him. On the one hand, he really wanted to get Castiel back to his normal geeky, uncertain, ridiculously out of place self again while another part of him warred that he was going to miss Cas being in this form more than he wanted to admit to himself. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed taking care of someone, of having someone who was utterly dependant on him, and a wistful bittersweet longing rolled over him for a normal life where he could have his own son. The flutter of wings brought Dean back to the moment however and as he stared into those big blue eyes he knew Cas couldn't stay like that, no matter how comforting the infant's presence had become. It wouldn't be fair to Castiel to relegate him to filling in the hole made when Sam had grown up. Dean offered a sad smile to the little angel perched on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Cas. Sam n' I are gonna fix this." The infant blinked at him a few times and then gently placed his open hand against the hunter's cheek in a stoic sign of affection before curling once more into his favorite position below the chiseled jawline of his caretaker. Dean's eyes closed and he relaxed against the wall, his thumb playing over the smooth skin between the angel's wings. "Not gonna let anything bad happen to you, ok?" he murmured quietly.


	12. Chapter 12: A little illumination

**A/N:** Whelp, I'm feeling a bit better now so you get a new chapter! YAY! As always, thank you to all who commented and encouraged me in the writing of this story. I am feeling particularly snuggly today so you're all going to be subjected to snuggly Wee!Cas and snuggly Dean. Because frankly, baby Cas snuggling Dean makes me happy, dang it, so that's what I'm writing. ;) AAAAAAND I guess I can throw some plot in there around all the snuggling. Heh. Hope the plot I'm chucking at you makes at least SOME sense. Also, this is a LOOOONG chapter...so yeah...

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It was decided amongst the three hunters that it was no longer safe to keep Castiel at Bobby's place. The demons after him were getting smarter and it would only be a matter of time before they tried some new tactic to get him out of the bunker. In all, the angel would be safer on the run as long as Dean and Sam could stay one step ahead of the enemy, something they had a great deal of practice with. Dean had insisted that Bobby come with them at first since the house was no longer safe but the older hunter had stubbornly refused citing the fact that it would be much harder for him to do the research they would need if he was constantly moving from place to place. He finally conceded to relocating for safety's sake and he packed his truck with a wide assortment of books along with a few changes of clothes for the drive up to a hunter safehouse in Michigan. There he would be able to stay off the demon radar until the whole mess had been cleaned up enough for him to return home. The hunters parted ways with a few tight hugs, pats on the back, and the promise to keep in touch with regular updates. Bobby said his quiet goodbye to Castiel with one final twirl in the air, gaining him a happy giggle from the angel much to the surprised delight of the brothers, though the older hunter made them swear never to mention him doing that again.

Dean had decided to head for Washington state as it was far enough away to hopefully throw the demons off their trail for a little while. He and Sam could summon Crowley again once they arrived to see if the demon had come up with any new information since the protection sacks they carried to hide from the denizens of hell would keep him from finding them once they moved. They had thoroughly checked every inch of the impala for any magic coins like the one Crowley had used in the past but it didn't appear the monsters they were currently facing had planted any such tracking device. Dean wasn't convinced they weren't being followed though and he found himself constantly checking the rearview mirror as he drove, worry gnawing at him over how the demons had found them the first time. Sam had fallen asleep about five hours into the drive, his head lolling against the window and his breath fogging the glass with each exhale. Castiel was sitting contentedly in his lap with all the patience one could expect of an angel. He was currently turned to watch the ebb and flow of fog on the window and had been apparently entranced by the sight for the last forty-five minutes. His wings twitched from time to time as he watched Sam sleeping and Dean found himself looking over to watch the flutter. The way they moved was so bird-like that he kept half waiting for Cas to turn and preen them but the angel had shown no signs of desiring to do so since hatching and the feathers seemed to always fall perfectly into place. His thoughts turned to Eddie and he couldn't help wondering if the man's carelessness had left them rumpled but he forced himself to put the thought from his mind as his hands began to tighten knuckle-white on the steering wheel in his rising irritation.

He focused instead on his brother. Sam had been more wound up than usual over the alst few days and Dean was beginning to worry about him. He could actually see the tension flee from Sam's muscles once he climbed into the car and gratefully accepted Castiel settling onto his lap once more. Now, as he slept, Dean noted how slack even his face had gone in the absence of the turmoil that had plagued the young man and he was pretty sure it was Castiel he could thank for it. He had felt firsthand the calming effects of holding the tiny angel each night so it was little surprise that Sam would be affected the same way though he seemed to be far more in need of it. Dean leaned back against his headrest and focused on the winding stretch of highway ahead of them. It would be a good few hours yet till they got to the town he had picked out for their first night on the run and he turned the music down to make sure Sam would be able to sleep the whole way. When he peered over again it was to find that Castiel had turned toward him and was watching him with just as much intensity as he had given to Sam's breathing a few moments earlier. The wings twitched once when he met those big blue eyes and Dean smirked. He reached over and ruffled the thick dark tufts of hair. "I'd say it's a shame you can't talk yet but let's face it, when you were big you weren't sucked at casual conversation anyway. Course, it's not so bad now when you invade my personal space but don't think this cuddling crap is gonna keep happening once we fix you." Castiel blinked silently at him and then nuzzled up farther against the hand in his hair.

Small hands wrapped around Dean's and pulled it down from where he had rested it on Castiel's head. The angel set to carefully examining the large palm and long fingers, apparently fascinated by the size in comparison to his own, and he clamped onto Dean's index finger and pinky as he turned the hand about. Dean chuckled and tapped the infant on the nose with his middle finger. Cas started and pulled away from the offending digit with a look of surprise before going right back to his careful study as if nothing had happened. Dean choked down a snort of amusement and tapped the little upturned nose again when Cas brought his face within reach. Again the angel started back, his wings flapping indignantly, and then shot a look of such complete disapproval at Dean that the hunter couldn't help but laugh out loud. Sam stirred in his sleep and Dean bit his bottom lip to keep the rest of his chuckling inside. Once satisfied that his brother was still soundly asleep, he turned back to where Cas had resumed his earlier inspection. The child was poking gently at the skin of Dean's palm but he looked up when he felt the hunter's eyes on him again. He released the hand in his grip and stretched his arms up expectantly in an obvious request to be held. It was the second time the angel had demanded his affection in such a manner and Dean felt bad that he couldn't safely drive and hold the baby at the same time. "Sorry, Cas. No can do right now."

He was met with a soft nasal grunt and when he looked over Cas was still waiting expectantly. "Hey look, I'm sorry. You know I'd hold ya but I can't right now. Just sit there with Sammy till we stop for the night. Then I promise I'll pick ya up, ok?" There was no response at first but when he peered over out of the corner of his eye, he could still see the angel holding up his arms like a porcelain doll someone had posed on his brother's lap. "Cas," Dean sighed, "Man, I wish I could, all right. Just…not right now." This earned him another higher and more insistent grunt that pulled heavily on the man's heart. He couldn't believe how guilty he felt ignoring the request but he turned resolutely away and stared out of the windshield. "No, Cas."

"Den."

The voice was tiny and soft, so quiet Dean wasn't sure he'd even actually heard it. He flicked off the radio entirely and looked to see if perhaps his brother had mumbled in his sleep though he knew the voice had been far too high to belong to the 6'4" figure slouched in the other seat. Castiel was still holding his arms out expectantly but his face was utterly blank and Dean decided he had to be hearing things. He moved to turn the radio on when he heard it again. "Den."

This time his head snapped around and he almost swerved off the road. Castiel was forced to brace himself against Sam's leg and Sam snorted and shifted in his sleep. Dean eased the car over to the side of the road and cast a wary look at the angel. "Did you just…." The infant's face was unreadable but once he managed to regain his balance he went right back to holding his arms up expectantly toward the hunter. Dean rubbed his eyes and turned back to the steeringwheel. "Ok, I'm hearing things. Great. That's just freakin' great." Castiel let out a little whimper and when Dean looked again the angel was leaning farther in his direction. There was no impatience on the upturned face, only a long suffering sort of calm as if the child was simply waiting for Dean to figure out what it was that he was asking for. "Cas, seriously, I can't right now. I'm sorry." He brushed a few stray locks back from Cas's forehead and reached for the gear shift when he heard the tiny voice call out again. Dean looked up and stared deadpan at the infant. "Cas?"

The angel opened and closed his hands once to indicate he'd like to hold onto Dean but when the hunter made no move to pick him up, the angel leaned a little farther toward his side of the car until he was practically bent in half. Dean raised an eyebrow and moved his hand as if he were going to put the car back in gear, this time carefully keeping watch on the passenger side of the car. Sure enough, as his hand closed over the shift, Castiel called out in a thin pleading voice. "Den?"

A huge grin split Dean's face. "Dude…you just said my name. Well, sorta, but close enough. I'm your first word!" The smile on his face spread from ear to ear and he slapped Sam across the arm to wake him, determined to brag about the discovery to someone. Sam jolted awake and the motion threw Castiel off balance again, sending the angel sprawling across the leg he'd been perched on. Sam scrambled to catch him before he slid right off and into the floor. He shot a glare at his overly happy brother as he plucked the angel up and curled him protectively against his chest.

"Dean, I could have dropped him." It was then that Sam noticed the lack of movement and realized they had pulled over. His tone changed from irritation to concern. "What's wrong? Why are we pulled over?"

Dean raised his chin proudly. "Cas just said his first word. Guess what it was." He shot his brother an arrogant smile and tugged on the collar of his jacket.

"He talked?" Sam sounded utterly elated by the new development and he grinned down at Cas. "That's great! What'd he say?" The angel looked lost by all the excitement and he flicked his wings uncertainly as he glanced between the two brothers.

"He said 'Dean'," the other hunter announced proudly.

Sam chuckled and raised his brows. "Really? Can you say it again, Cas?" The infant simply looked at him blankly and then over to Dean again. "Come on Cas, say 'Dean'." Castiel let out a small sigh and flapped his wings once before stilling.

When it didn't look like the child was going to repeat the experience for Sam, an idea popped into Dean's head and he leaned over. His fingers brushed the child's arm and he motioned as if to take Cas. The angel immediately responded by reaching out again as he had earlier, his small hands making grabbing motions, but Dean remained just out of reach. "Come on, Cas. Say it for me."

Sam frowned when Cas let out a frustrated whimper as Dean once again moved out of his reach no matter how far the angel stretched. "Dean, come on, that's kinda mean." The angel stretched out a little farther and let out another pleading whimper as he reached again for the other side of the car.

Dean had to admit he felt a little bad about teasing the infant but he wanted so much to let Sam hear the child talk. "You can do it, Cas. You said it just a minute ago. Say for me again. Please?"

Finally the hunter was rewarded when Castiel chirped his name in his attempts to get the man to cooperate. "Den?"

Dean laughed and pointed excitedly. "SEE? I told you! He said my name!" He happily gave in to the child's demands and at long last Castiel was lifted into the driver's seat. He clambered up Dean's shirt and nuzzled happily into his favorite spot against the etched collarbone above him, his face all but buried in the collar of Dean's leather jacket. He flapped his wings a few times and then settled, warm and comfortable, in the arms cradling him.

Sam chuckled at the whole exchange. "I don't know, Dean, it sounded more like 'den' to me," he teased. He couldn't resist the chance to pick on his big brother what with how excited he was over their friend saying his name.

Dean frowned at him and narrowed his eyes. "Was not," he pouted, "…ok, maybe it was, but that's close enough. He's _trying_ to say Dean. You weren't much better at it when you were his age. You kept calling me 'Da' for like six friggin' months." Sam laughed and leaned against the window. "Don't listen to him, Cas," Dean whispered conspiratorially, "He's just jealous you said my name first."

"Ok, Dean, whatever," Sam chuckled, "at least he's talking. Maybe we can get him to say 'Sam' next. It's easier than 'Dean.'"

The other hunter patted Castiel reassuringly and sulked on his side of the car. "Not if you keep picking on him."

Sam snickered and shook his head. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. I think it's cute." Dean seemed satisfied by this and he smiled proudly as he reached across and put the car back into drive with his off hand. Sam's eyes went wide. "Dean, you can't drive while holding him."

"Watch me," Dean said in challenge and he pulled carefully back onto the deserted road. "Trust me Sam, I've driven this car while doing things that required a whole lot more concentration than just holding a baby. A **whole** **lot** **more.**" His lusty smile earned a shudder from Sam.

"I don't want to know," the younger man said as he turned to look at the window again. "Just warn me if I need to put plastic down on the seat first."

"Oh dude, it is WAY too late for that. You shoulda asked before you got back in the car after I picked you up from college. Actually I'm kinda surprised the seat was dry by then."

"Oh god," Sam moaned, "I just said I didn't want to know."

"Her name was Carla and he did this thing with her tongue ring…"

"DEAN!"

* * *

The boys pulled into Spokane just before dawn that night. Dean had wanted to put off calling Crowley until the next night but Sam was insistent that they should at least let him know what they had discovered since they last saw him and he was eager to see if the demon had any new information. They set up a hasty altar and then waited with weapons drawn. Crowley had proven useful in the past, certainly, but Dean wasn't about to trust him and the situation would be far more dangerous now that Castiel lacked the protection of the bunker. Sam stood leaning against the bathroom sink with the angel in his arms. The door to his left was open and he glanced over again to recheck the warding sigils and devil's traps he had drawn on the tile around the shower. If things went poorly he could be within the relative safety of the small protective circle they had erected in the bathtub before Crowley could move two steps. Even the shower curtain bore warding symbols meant to keep potential attackers at bay. Neither brother was taking any chances.

It didn't take too long after the sulfur was ignited before Crowley's low drawl caught their attention. "Haven't either of you ever heard of using a phone? I've got better things to do than come running every time one of you rings the bell." He was leaning casually against the door to their room and Dean spun around to face him when he spoke.

"So sorry to bother you but I don't exactly have '**dial a demon'** saved in my phone," Dean snapped.

"Well here's an idea," Crowley said, "ASK, you dimwit. Here, don't strain yourself." A disposable prepaid cellphone was tossed in Dean's direction and the hunter snatched it out of the air.

"You expect me to take this? How do I know you haven't bobby-trapped it or bugged it so you can find us?"

"You don't, you idiot, but since I know you're going to be ringing my dinner bell anyway every time you want information, why would I bother tracking you? All I have to do is wait long enough and you'll call me right to you anyway, moron. I'm just trying to save you the joy of sleeping in rooms that smell like rotten eggs and save me the joy of having to drop what I'm doing EVERY TIME ONE OF THE TWO OF YOU MENSA REJECTS DECIDES YOU WANT TO ANNOY ME," the demon shouted.

Dean cleared his throat and shrugged. He hadn't really thought about that. "Yeah…well…FINE. I'll take the damn thing." He jammed the phone in his pocket and tried to maintain his illusion of controlling the situation.

"Did you find out anything?" Sam interjected before Crowley started a new rant.

"Actually, yes," the demon purred, his demeanor relaxing at once into his usual air of distant snootiness. "And what I found isn't the devil, but it comes in a close second. I was right that a fallen angel is responsible, but it's not just any angel, it's the right hand of the big guy himself. A being known as Belial, first in command of the Morningstar's troops when he decided to rebel. He was a loyal SOB, one of heaven's best and brightest as it were, no pun intended."

Dean stared blankly but Sam looked a little confused. "Belial? Isn't that just another name for Satan?"

"Common mistake," Crowley said dismissively, "Most people think Lucifer had multiple names, which was true enough, but most of his generals wind up getting lumped into that list too. Belial was the epitome of a good soldier. His love of Lucifer was only matched by his love of God himself but the Morning start is nothing if not persuasive and he won Belial to his side by convincing him that it was a test of his loyalty to his father to see if he would put a lesser creature ahead of him. Poor sap believed it and earned himself a trip straight to the pit for it."

"Great," Dean muttered, "Lemme guess, now he wants to let his boss back out of the cage by using Cas?"

"Actually, no," Crowley shrugged, "here's the kicker. He believes that he and all the rebellious angels _deserved _their punishment and he doesn't want to set Lucifer free…he wants to lock down the cage he's in."

Dean and Sam exchanged looks. "Come again?" Dean said.

"That's right. You see, Lucifer's cage has some small leaks in it as it were. He can't get out but he still has influence in hell and can rule there. Belial wants to seal the cage entirely. He wants to cut Lucifer off and make it so he can't even talk to his minions anymore, leaving Belial as the next contender for the throne since he's the next strongest being in hell," Crowley explained.

"Ok," Dean said warily, "So then why don't we **let** him? I mean, he can't be much worse than having Lucifer ruling, right? Hell, let's give the guy a hand."

"Not so fast. It's not quite that simple," the demon said cryptically.

"Of course it's not," Dean mumbled.

"See, in order to seal that cage tighter, he needs heaven's help. The only way to seal the cage entirely is through a sacrifice on the part of a heavenly being. More specifically it can only be done by burning an archangel's grace. Think of it as holy caulk."

Sam shuddered. "Burn his grace? Oh god…he's gonna use Gabriel."

"Bingo," Crowley said with disturbing cheerfulness, "and trust me when I say that's not going to be a pleasant end for your obnoxious friend. The ritual would seal the archangel into the cage itself, leaving him with Lucifer at his back and all of hell at his front for all eternity. But the mystery thickens further, my dears, because the ritual in question can't be performed by anyone but another archangel or someone of equivalent power. And since Belial is still locked in his cage, that means he can't do the ritual. He needs someone else to do it for him. Or…he needs someone to let him out. Once he's out, he can use your little holy battery over there," he said pointing to Castiel, "and give himself a power boost big enough to do the deed on his own."

"Ok, so we just have to keep him from getting out of his cage then," Dean said firmly.

Sam didn't look so convinced though. "Wait, so if he's still in his cage then who turned Cas into a baby?"

"That's the million dollar question," Crowley said, "I still don't know how he got your little friend back into diapers but I **can** tell you that he's got some serious manpower walking around up here to help him get his hands on that tender morsel and it's going to spell trouble for the two of you." He turned meaningfully toward Sam. "So tell me, how have you been feeling lately, pet? Cranky? PMSing? Moody?"

Sam tried to swallow the lump of fear growing in his gut. He wasn't sure how Crowley knew about his loss of control in the warehouse but he hoped that word had simply spread somehow. "What's it to you?" Dean snapped suddenly, placing himself between Crowley and his baby brother. Sam felt a swell of gratitude for the protectiveness as it afforded him a little breathing room from Crowley's knowing stare.

"Oh it doesn't mean anything to me but _you_ might want to be concerned. Belial's help? None other than the home wrecker himself: Legion."

"Legion?" Dean said unimpressed, "We already dealt with Legion when we fought the seven deadly sins. We'll just kick their asses again."

"Not quite," Crowley interrupted, "You see, you fought **a** legion, not **THE** Legion. Two different horses. No, Legion, the demon itself, isn't something even another demon trifles with. He, _IT_, isn't really one demon. It's sort of a culmination. You've read the bible. Remember that old story about Cain and his unfortunate temper tantrum? Well Legion is the damned soul of every descendant of Cain who ever made it into hell and let me tell you, they inherited their forbearer's disposition. Legion is sort of a demon of vengeance against those who it feels were praised unfairly or who escaped punishment they deserved. If you've ever felt put upon, or like life has handed you a bad deal, its presence will increase that. It plays on every jaded and bitter emotion you have and then amplifies it to murderous proportions and let's face it, in the world of those who have been shat on by life, the two of you are at the top of the list. And which one of you got the rawest deal?" He leveled a stare at Sam. "Think about it, boys. One of you was the golden child who daddy loved and god chose to be the vessel for heaven while the other one was always the outsider, the one destined to be Lucifer's meatsuit even before he could crawl. That's got to leave a few harsh feelings behind."

Sam was shaking his head before Crowley even finished. "No, that isn't Dean's fault. He didn't have anything to do with it."

Crowley held up a hand. "Doesn't matter. Legion has the tainted soul of Cain trapped somewhere in it and mark my words that the closer you get to him, the more dangerous you're going to be to anyone you care about."

The words of the demoness from the warehouse echoed in his head once more and Sam shuddered. _I am but the servant of the servant. He is coming, he cannot be stopped, and you will bring death to all you love, Sam Winchester._ He closed his eyes and shook his head in denial but his uncertainty and worry faded as a small hand pressed against his cheek. Sam turned to look down at the fragile creature he was holding and his resolve solidified. Castiel blinked solemnly at him and patted his cheek again as if offering comfort the only way he knew how. "No," Sam said flatly, "That's not going to happen. If Lucifer himself couldn't get me to kill Dean, then some demon doesn't stand a chance." He looked over at his brother and offered him a reassuring smile that was echoed with one tinged with pride.

Crowley just rolled his eyes. "While I hate to break up this little homoerotic family bonding moment, you two have one more problem at hand. Belial is going to need the help of a powerful angel to get out of his cage, that's the key that breaks his seal, which means he either has to get it from Lucifer or he has to get it from someone a little farther north. Since it's doubtful that Lucifer is going to be stupid enough to help someone that wants to make life harder for him, then it's a safe bet that Belial isn't looking to him for assistance. Which means that he's working with someone else. Someone capable of turning your friend into an infant. Someone powerful enough to help him capture Gabriel. Gentlemen, I think we might have a rogue angel on our hands."


	13. Chapter 13: Trust

**A/N:** Ok….so this was MEANT to include all kinds of plot and to help further the story along but…yeah, Dean and Cas were having NONE of that. So this is what you wind up with. *sigh* Anyway, I'm going to ATTEMPT to make some headway on more storyline driven stuff later. In the meantime, please enjoy the random fruits of my brain. Thank you all once again for being patient while I try to work up chapters and also for all the kind feedback!

* * *

The tick of a clock mingled loudly with the deep sated breathing of Sam Winchester, filling the quiet of the small motel room the boys had settled in. The familiar swirl of white light that accompanied Castiel's wings bobbed up and down as he rose and fell with each breath, his small form curled up on the young hunter's chest. His luminous blue eyes were fixed on Sam's face as it contorted in the midst of occasional dreams as if he were some silent guardian warding off potential nightmares. If Sam's occasional snoring was any indication, Castiel was doing his job quite well too. Dean however lay wide awake in the other bed. He was still and silent as he watched the play of light across the stucco ceiling above him. For the past two nights he had enjoyed the comfort the angel's presence had given but tonight he had given up that privilege so that Sam could get a good night's sleep instead. The young man had put on a brave face and to anyone else Sam would have looked perfectly calm but Dean could see the telltale signs of stress weighing heavily on him once Crowley had left. The demon's warnings about Legion had spooked them both no matter what they had told him and it was fairly obvious to Dean that Sam was already fretting over the threat that he might harm someone he cared about.

It was painfully obvious how much comfort Sam gained while holding Cas and so Dean had mumbled an excuse about needing to sleep without feathers up his nose for one night, resolutely turning from the outstretched arms of the child when Sam moved to hand him over. It had been one of the harder things he'd had to do in quite some time. Sam had stretched out on his own bed, thrown a grateful look to Dean that said he knew the excuse was just that, and then spent a few minutes gently petting the infant's hair before sleep finally overtook him. As the first rays of dawn began to creep through the curtains, Dean found himself rolling over to watch the angel where he perched atop the younger hunter's chest. He had thought he'd been past the nightmares about his time in hell but he'd no sooner closed his eyes before the swell of horrifying images came boiling up to greet him. He'd only gotten about thirty minutes of actual rest before he'd woken lathed in sweat and shaking. He'd been halfway out of bed and on his way to reclaim Cas before he'd even realized it but he couldn't bring himself to snatch away the only comfort he could afford to Sam in that moment and had laid back down alone.

Dean's heavy thoughts ground to a halt as he realized that Cas had turned to look at him and the two lay for a few moments with their eyes locked. A thin smile tugged at the corner of his mouth but it faded quickly, replaced with the recent and increasingly familiar urge he'd been getting to hold the angel again. Sam had long since grown too big to hold, to big in so many ways to even need him anymore, and the complete dependence Castiel had on both of them had brought back a flood of memories Dean had almost completely forgotten. He knew it wouldn't last, that he couldn't go back to those days when he'd been a big brother whom Sam had followed with a puppy-like devotion, but he'd gleaned some small amount of comfort from being needed that way again. Castiel flicked his wings once and peered over the edge of Sam's chest as if trying to gauge whether he could make the climb to get over to Dean but he settled back down when he realized he couldn't make it on his own. He curled up on his stomach, his small feet tucking under his bottom and his hands curling into tiny fists under his chest. His wings glided easily against one another with a soft rustling sound as he shifted them to curl more easily around his shoulders. The dark shock of his hair contrasted against the bright eyes below it and Dean found himself staring at the precious bundle while an overwhelming anger began to simmer under the surface.

Crowley's words were echoing in his brain. Another angel. He wished he could say he didn't believe it, that no angel in their right mind would do this to one of their own kind but he knew better than that. Castiel had been one of the rare exceptions to the general rule that angels were universal **dicks**. He couldn't honestly put it past one of them to turn on the rest, after all there was precedence for doing so in the past, and he found himself wondering who it was this time. How many enemies had Gabriel and Castiel made during the apocalypse? Cas and Gabe had both died and been brought back but Cas had even been cut off from all of heaven for a while. He didn't figure heaven had exactly rolled out a welcome mat when the angel had returned home. Guilt tugged at Dean as he thought about what kind of chaos Castiel had returned to in the aftermath of it all. He hadn't much cared at the time, he'd been so angry with the angel for what he felt was an abandonment when he needed friends the most, and even after Cas had brought Sam back there had been a bitterness that accompanied the angel leaving again. He had wondered what it was about him that made it so easy for those he came to actually give a damn about to up and walk out on him. He had begrudgingly begun to actually see the angel as a friend while they were facing insurmountable odds against the Devil himself but once Cas had gotten his power back it was as if Dean had ceased to matter again. He'd been cast aside and the heavenly being hadn't even put in a single appearance after that fateful night.

The swirl of emotions shifted in Dean from one moment to the other but when he looked up at Cas again, he found his anger and bitterness at the angel faded. There was still a part of him bitterly shouting that the angel was simply going to up and disappear again once they put him back to normal but it was overshadowed as Dean watched the infant blink silently at him across the room. Sure, Cas might up and leave them again later but in that moment, he was still so small and helpless and Dean felt needed again. He cast a last mournful look in the angel's direction and then rolled over, determined to at least try to get a few hours of sleep before he had to drive again. Behind him he could hear the infant shift. "Den?" Dean closed his eyes and forced himself not to respond. He wasn't going to look or he knew he'd give in and take the angel back for the rest of the night and Sam needed the rest the infant could afford. He could hear a quiet huff that sounded so disappointed it nearly broke the hunter's heart. He hated turning away from Cas, especially since the angel depended on him so much but he consoled himself by clinging to the idea that Sam needed him right then too.

The rustle of cloth caught Dean's attention but he stayed with his back to the scene, determined not to encourage Cas into leaving Sam's side. The sound increased for a moment and then a heavy and sickening thud met his ears. Dean shot up out of the bed without a second thought and launched himself across to where Castiel lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, biting back cuss words the whole way. The hunter scooped the infant up and rushed him into the bathroom where he could get some light and check for injuries without waking Sam. He pressed his back against the wall and then dropped onto his butt on the floor, his knees coming up to cradle Castiel while his hands worked swiftly to check the infant over for any sign of bleeding or broken bones. "Shit, shit, shit. Cas, you ok? Please tell me you didn't break anything." The angel put up with the frantic check without complaint, his little face turned up to watch Dean's expression as it shifted from mild panic to concern to relief and he even let the hunter briskly check his wings, uttering nothing more than an uncomfortable grunt during the examination. Aside from a tiny red patch of carpet burn along one elbow the angel appeared to be in perfect health and Dean let out a sigh as his head thumped back against the tile. "Dude, what the hell were you thinking? You could have killed yourself. You have any idea what Sam would do to me if I let you get hurt? Or Bobby? God, Bobby'd freakin skin me," he whispered harshly. The older hunter had grown fond of the angel even if he wasn't really willing to admit it openly and Dean could well imagine the ass whipping he'd get if he let anything bad happen while Cas was still in that form.

Dean looked down at the angel again when he felt something slap erratically against his upper thigh. Castiel's left wing was flicking in what looked like a spasm and a twitch of discomfort played across his chubby face as he turned to peer curiously at it. He fluttered the appendage a few times and let out a thin unhappy noise when this didn't seem to rectify the issue. Dean reached out and gently pressed the angel against his chest so he could get a better look. "Easy, Cas. Lemme see," he murmured as soothingly as he could considering his heart was in his throat all of a sudden. He didn't want to think that the wing had been injured during the fall as he didn't even know where to begin on how to get the infant any kind of medical attention. He couldn't just walk him into a local ER and hope someone knew what to do with wings. He even entertained the idea that maybe a vet would be better equipped to deal with it but even that wasn't optimal. He couldn't exactly wrap Cas in blankets and tell the vet it was a _really big_ cockatiel though he considered the option strongly. Dean's fingers closed over the wing as gently as he could manage and Castiel instantly stilled at the touch. His small form went rigid against the broad chest beneath him with obvious discomfort and his right wing curled out, spreading in a way that reminded Dean of the defensive display of an angry bird. He worked as quickly as he could, gently sweeping his fingers up over the fluffy curve of the upper wing and spreading the feathers to make sure it still had full movement. Castiel didn't make any noise in protest which concerned Dean a little but as he felt a tremble wrack its way across the infant's shoulders he knew the manhandling was definitely having an effect. It was a testament to the angel's trust in him as well as his own painstaking efforts to be as gentle as possible that Cas was letting him even do this exam without wrenching the wing away. The infant had every right to do so considering the rough treatment he'd suffered only a day ago but he waited with infinite patience as the hunter flexed the wing a few times.

Dean was about to end the angel's unhappiness by letting go when his finger brushed across a bur he hadn't noticed before. Cas let out a small grunt and turned his face away from the wing, burying it instead into Dean's shirt. The older man brushed his finger over the area again, wishing he didn't have to when the infant let out another unhappy noise, and again he felt the ridge that seemed so out of place among the rest of the silk smooth feathers. He turned the wing up as delicately as he could until he could see the issue. A single feather had become shuffled out of place and Dean let out a breath of relief that it wasn't something more serious. He gently tried to push the fragile thing back into its spot but doing so was easier said than done and by the time he managed to get it back where it belonged, Cas was squirming in his lap. Once it was over though the angel sighed in relief and gratefully folded the wing back down. Dean hefted his friend up, placed him back into his favorite spot, and gently rubbed his cheek against the thick tufts of hair. He felt bad for having to do that but it needed to be done and it was over now. It struck him how sensitive the angel's wings were and he wondered if that was the same for all of the heavenly host. As Castiel nuzzled up under his caretaker's jaw and relaxed, Dean found himself also relaxing and his fatigue from earlier crept back up on him. His head nodded once and he almost fell asleep right there on the floor but he blinked away the sleep and slid back to his feet. He had long since come to the conclusion that Cas was the only reason he was getting a good night's rest and he honestly didn't want to set the angel down again for fear that his earlier nightmares would come back and haunt him again but as he stepped out into the darkness of the room and heard the disquieted murmur of Sam tossing in his sleep, he knew his brother needed the angel as well.

Caught between his desire to sleep and his need to help his little brother, Dean shrugged and went for the only option he had readily available. He was sure Sam would probably be pretty pissed at him in the morning and he wasn't real happy with the situation himself but the only way both of them were going to get any rest that night was if they both had Cas nearby. Dean eased himself down onto the edge of Sam's bed and rolled his eyes. He never in a million years imagined this day would come but as Sam let out a strangled whine in his sleep, he knew he didn't really have a choice. Dean sighed resignedly and lay back onto the mattress. It was a small bed on the best of days and with Sam's large frame eating up most of it, Dean found himself clinging to the edge by the wall. Still, Sam settled down right away once he was close to the angel again and Dean was able to contort himself after a few minutes into a more comfortable position that didn't require him defying the laws of physics. Castiel stayed still and content throughout the whole circus-like rearranging that had to take place for both fully grown men to lay down on the tiny mattress. Dean growled something unintelligible as he tried to get comfy and shuddered at the thought that if fangirls like Becky ever heard about this, he could be assured of enough fiction to scar him mentally for the rest of his life. Despite that terrifying mental image, he eventually drifted off into sleep and this time the only nightmares he had included the dolphin-like squeals of Wincest slash fans.

* * *

Hehehe. Ok, to stave off the hate mail, allow me to say that I'm just PICKING on those of you who are Wincest slash fans. To each their own and if it makes you happy, then go for it. ;) I just couldn't resist throwing that in there considering that my brain forced me to stick them both in one bed.


	14. Chapter 14: Angels are Dicks

**A/N**: HOY CRAP! IT'S PLOT! Yeah, I bribed my internal Dean with promises of pie at some point and he has agreed to go forward with actual PLOT now instead of just snuggling a lot. *sigh* Ok, things are starting to kick off a little more now. Hopefully this will clear up some confusion and answer some questions about what is going on with tiny Cas. This chapter DOES include a minor OC. I made him up and I like him for some reason. XD Heh. Anyway, this is kind of a long chapter but I didn't want to break it up since it all worked well together.

* * *

At a little past two in the afternoon, Sam and Dean were at last awoken by the less than polite cleaning woman who pounded on their door like the place was burning down. Dean barely had enough time to shoot out of the bed before she had unlocked the room and let herself in, a stack of fresh linens in her arms. Sam blinked at her through the tangled curtain of his hair while Dean stood like a deer in the proverbial headlights at the foot of Sam's bed. He watched the maid's eyes flick between him, his empty bed, and the one where Sam was still groggily trying to piece together the situation. Dean offered her an embarrassed smile and spread his hands helplessly. "Er, Hi! Uh…towels," he said quickly, grasping at any topic he could think of that might distract her from what he knew this must look like, "yeah, we…we need..towels." He moved forward quickly and snatched the armload of folded white cotton from her hands while trying to ignore the appreciative and entirely inappropriate grin spreading over her face. "Thanks. Thank you. We're good now." He shooed her back out the door as quickly as he could while she rattled off something in spanish that left Sam looking utterly mortified, his face going a full three shades redder. As the door clicked shut Dean looked back over at his brother. "I don't want to know what she said, do I?"

Sam shook his head emphatically, "No, and for the sake of my sanity I don't want to repeat it."

Dean nodded. "Right. You can keep that particular piece of mental scarring to yourself then." He headed quickly for his overnight bag, depositing the towels into a chair along the way, and rifled through it to locate his toothbrush. When he looked up again Sam was staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Dean…should I even ask why the hell you were in my bed last night?"

Dean shot him a sheepish and rather uncomfortable look. "Uh…Cas. He…uh..well, see he fell and…uh…"

Sam's eyes flew wide and he cut his brother's stumbling efforts off. "He FELL? Oh my god, is he ok?" He shot up and looked frantically to his other side only to find Castiel quietly curled up in the warm spot Dean had just vacated. The infant blinked at him calmly and Sam let a little of his tension ease off. He scooted closer and drew Cas to him as tenderly as he could, his eyes scanning for any indications of injury but, finding none, he blew out a sigh and let his shoulders sag. Cas reached up and curled his fingers around one of Sam's much larger ones, drawing a reluctant smile from the hunter. Once again the angel appeared to have aged overnight and now more closely resembled an eight month old child than a three day old infant.

"Yeah, he's fine. He's a tough little SOB." Dean grinned, grateful for the distraction that had taken his brother's mind off the otherwise awkward situation.

Sam on the other hand had not forgotten. He shot his brother a mildly irritated look. "Yeah, well, that doesn't really explain why you were in my bed but next time just wake me up, ok? I'm not five anymore and it's kinda creepy waking up next to you."

Dean, ever the sort to play off his discomfort by making a joke of it all, grinned from ear to ear and walked over to Sam's side of the bed. "Aw, come on Sammy. Don'tcha love me anymore?" he teased leaning over and trying to hug Sam in a way he knew his baby brother would never allow.

Sam predictably recoiled and swatted at Dean's arms. "Dude, no. Get off me!" He slapped a hand into Dean's chest and shoved him away, laughing in spite of himself. Dean grinned at him, ruffled his hair, which he promptly swatted away as well, and then headed for the bathroom to get ready leaving Sam shaking his head in his wake. The rest of the morning progressed fairly smoothly much to Dean's gratitude. He'd played off the sleeping incident as best he could and tried to let that particular awkward moment go in favor of getting some new answers that would hopefully have Cas back to normal soon. He laid out his plan to Sam as they ate and it was received about as well as he might have expected.

"No WAY," Sam shook his head before turning back to where Cas was reaching once again for the honey packets held in a small tray on their table. "It's too dangerous. If there **is** a rogue angel out there, the last thing we want to do it get its attention," he said as he removed another plastic packet from Castiel's grip. The diner they had stopped in this time was considerably better than the last one they'd visited and its rickety tables were brimming with local townsfolk. The air was filled with raucous laughter, noisy conversations, and the clatter of silverware on plates as locals enjoyed their afternoon lunch and Dean felt fairly safe bringing up his plans since it was doubtful they would be overheard. It also helped that the diner served breakfast all day.

"Hey, if you have a plan B, I'm all ears," Dean said as he shoveled another bite of syrup laden pancake into his mouth. "But I don't see us having a whole lot of options here, Sam."

The younger Winchester paused in his efforts to keep Castiel out of the honey and turned to brandish a packet at Dean that he'd just plucked from the angel's hands. He was oblivious as the infant shot him a look of confusion before reaching for another. "Well, anything is better than throwing up a neon sign to all of heaven pinpointing exactly where we are," Sam said in exasperation, "I mean, I understand what you're trying to do, I just don't think it's a good idea."

"Oh? And calling Crowley, a freakin' DEMON, was any better?" Dean argued around a mouthful of bacon. "C'mon Sam, it's the best option we got and you know it. You and Cas will just stay at the hotel while I go dial the holy bat-phone. I figure we can get someone's attention and ask some questions, dig around a little, see if they know anything. Somebody upstairs has to have heard _something._ They won't even know you and Cas are here." He took a swig of coffee and shot a challenging look at the young man across the table.

Sam leaned back, realizing he couldn't really argue the point since he had nothing better to offer, and tossed the honey onto the growing pile in front of him. It was only then that he noticed Cas, whom Sam had let sit on the table due to the restaurant's lack of a booster seat, had already gained a new one and was quietly suckling away at it. He sighed in frustration and gently eased that one away as well. "Cas, you can't eat this too much. It's not good for you. Try some fruit instead." He offered up a slice of strawberry in place of the confiscated honey and Cas stared at it for a moment before looking back longingly at the now empty tray that had held all the packets. Dean chuckled and slid the syrup bottle across the table to him but Sam shot him a pissy look and snatched it up before Cas could figure out what was in it. "Look, if you're going to do this, then at least promise me you'll keep your phone on you and let me turn on the gps so I can find you if things go bad, ok?"

Dean shrugged. "Yeah sure. I don't like this any more than you do," he said, popping another bite into his mouth. Sam nodded knowing full well that it was the most he was going to get out of his brother and that once Dean had set his mind to something there was little chance of talking him out of it regardless of how likely it was for this plan to go wrong. He also couldn't think of anything better to offer up instead. What Crowley had told them was disturbing to say the least and he knew full well it also placed a fairly heavy time limit on them what with a powerful demon as well as a renegade angel out hunting for their heads. Regardless of the strong front he'd put up when he'd told Crowley he wasn't going to let Legion affect him, he found himself worried about it anyway. He couldn't bear the thought of hurting Dean, not again. As the vessel of Lucifer he had come very close to outright killing his brother with his bare hands and he wasn't looking forward to testing if he could resist another demonic hold on him. Not with Dean's life at stake.

Sam slid out of the booth to use the restroom a short while later and Dean turned back to a rather forlorn looking Castiel who was left staring at the pile of honey where his brother had been sitting. "Yeah, I know," he said as he snatched up a packet and tore it open before handing it over, "he's a pain in the ass but he means well." Cas's answer was a contented smacking noise as he eagerly polished off the sticky treat he'd been handed. He set down the empty wrapper and looked back at the pile again but made no move to reclaim his own breakfast as if waiting for permission to do so. Dean smiled lopsidedly at him and drew the angel across the table to settle into his lap where he knew Sam wouldn't reach to get him back. He snagged the syrup bottle off the table and tried to pass it down but Cas looked a little lost as to what to make of it. He gripped tightly to the flexible plastic tube when it was offered to him but he didn't seem to understand what was inside it and he kept looking back to Sam's side of the table eagerly. It wasn't until Dean tipped the bottle up and placed it against the angel's lips that he realized there was more to be had than just the container itself. As soon as the first dollop of thick buttery syrup hit his mouth, Cas happily wrapped his lips around the end and began sucking…much to Sam's utter horror when he returned a minute later.

* * *

The brothers had learned long ago from their father that it was best to get lodging on the outskirts of a town as it would let them avoid the majority of traffic and make a clean getaway if things went poorly during a hunt. Dean knew he wasn't going to find what he was looking for that far out though and after dropping Sam and Cas off at the motel he headed in toward the downtown district. It took him a good hour of hunting, driving slowly from one block to the next, but eventually he spotted a middle aged man in a business suit standing on a street corner in one of the dirtier sections of town. He was shouting something at those who passed by but Dean didn't need to make out the exact words to know he'd found the right type of person. If the bible clutched in the man's arms wasn't enough of an indicator, his occasional need to flail it at the people who walked past certainly was and Dean guided the impala over to a corner just up the road. He slid from the car and headed calmly toward the shouting zealot who paused as he came within a few feet. "Hi," Dean said jovially, "Need you to send a message for me. You tell those pompous feathered assholes upstairs that Dean Winchester wants a word with them." He crossed his arms, immeasurably pleased with the look of shock and horror that crossed the preacher's face and waited patiently while the man dropped to his knees and began praying loudly for the angels to forgive Dean of his transgressions.

Dean rolled his eyes and checked his watch as the crier ranted toward the sky. After a good five minutes of listening to the evangelist scream out his prayer, Dean had heard about as much as he could take and he began considering what other options he might have for getting an angel's attention. He decided that having wild passionate sex on an altar, while fun, would probably only serve to get him arrested, though he did spend a longer amount of time than was strictly necessary thinking that one through. He considered finding an actual preacher and seeing if they might have better luck reaching out to an angel on his behalf but he figured that one person praying loudly was just as effective as another and it didn't seem to be working so well at the moment. He even thought very hard about punching the crap out of the man kneeling in front of him as the obnoxious prayer reached a crescendo but he doubted that would be enough to make an angel take note even if it would make _him_ feel better.

After another five minutes spent waiting, Dean's own silent prayer began for the heavenly messenger to arrive if only to shut up the idiot still kneeling in front of him. He finally threw up his hands in disgust and turned back for the car since it looked like his plan wasn't going to work after all. Perhaps no one was manning the angel-phone anymore since the apocalypse had been ended already. Dean climbed back into the impala, having just resigned himself to finding a different way, and slid the keys into the ignition. He took one last glance in his rearview at the man on the corner and was met instead with a pair of soulful brown eyes staring back at him from the reflection. Dean jumped and whipped around, his pistol already in his hand and aimed for the backseat. There, sitting as still as a mannequin, was a young man in his early twenties. He was dressed casually in a simple t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts despite the slight chill that had stirred up in the northern town and a pair of sandals adorned his feet. His face was boyish with wide bright eyes and the top of his head was crowned in a long sandy Mohawk that was laying flat and gathered into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He looked more like a skater kid from Miami than an angel but Dean knew better. The blank expressionless stare he was getting was strikingly familiar to another certain celestial he knew and he wondered if that expression was taught in angel school.

"Dean Winchester," the young man said in a surprisingly soothing voice, "my name is Hezrial. I am an angel of the Lord."

"Yeah, I got that. Thanks," Dean snapped, "What is it with you people? Can't you ever just show up in a way that doesn't scare the bejesus out of me? I've been standing out there listening to that idiot scream to the high heavens for the past ten minutes. You couldn't just walk up and say hi?"

Hezrial cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow a bit in a way that was so like Cas it actually irritated Dean to see someone else do it. "You called for heavenly assistance, Dean. I am sorry you are not receiving it in the way you want." The tone of the angel's voice was flat and even but despite this Dean could almost swear the guy really was sorry he wasn't happy. If only he could believe that angels gave that much of a damn.

"Whatever," Dean grumbled, "I just need some answers ok? Now get up in the front seat, Mrs. Daisy. I'm not chauffeuring you around." He turned back to the steering wheel and re-holstered his weapon. If this guy was their rogue angel then a gun wasn't going to do a whole lot of good against it anyway. Hezrial didn't strike him as the renegade sort though as he climbed obediently into the front and turned to look at Dean once more. The hunter pulled the car away from the curb and they headed back toward the other side of town in relative silence. He certainly wasn't going to lead the angel right to Sam and Cas but driving had always helped him think more clearly and he wanted to be as far from the zealot on the corner as possible in case any other angels were listening in. In the distance he could just make out the spires of a church rising high above the rest of the buildings and he figured it was as good a place as any for their meeting.

Hezrial waited with utter patience as Dean wove through traffic and the longer he sat silent and still, the more it irked Dean on some level he couldn't put his finger on. "So," he coughed, "How're things in heaven?"

The angel turned to cast him a blank stare. "You didn't call me all the way down here just to make small talk, Dean. You are searching for Castiel."

The flat proclamation made the hunter a little uneasy but he decided to play along for the moment instead of revealing that he knew exactly where Cas was. The curious thing was that the other angel didn't and it made something in Dean's instincts scream. "Hey, you got me. We put his mug on milk cartons but no luck and he hasn't had his shots so I'm a little worried. Any idea where he went?" Dean quipped. He cast a surreptitious glance over at the angel but found that he was met with an unblinking stare.

"Castiel is missing," Hezrial said flatly, "No one in heaven knows where our brother is. Gabriel is also missing and though we have half the host searching for them, we cannot locate them." The angel inclined his head and the intensity of his gaze increased. "But you already know that, don't you, Dean Winchester? So why have you called for heaven's assistance?"

Dean swallowed hard under the scrutiny of Hezrial gaze. He wasn't sure how much to reveal now that he was face to face with the angel but he had a feeling lying at this point wasn't going to get him anywhere. He'd made this plan, he didn't have much choice now but to follow through on it. He cleared his throat and tried not to look nervous. "I need to know what you can tell me about baby angels," he said offhandedly. The direct approach seemed best considering the circumstances but it had Dean trying not to squirm in his seat regardless.

Hezrial cocked his head curiously at the hunter and narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing just slightly in the first real display of emotion he'd shown since getting in the car. "I am afraid I do not understand your line of questioning, Dean."

"You know…babies…with wings. Angelets or something? Little bundles of joy? Those things that happen when you're cloud seeding and your hose goes awry?" Dean wasn't really sure where to begin and the thought suddenly occurred to him how large the egg had been that Cas had hatched from. He shuddered hard and tried his best not to imagine **that** brutal process.

Hezrial remained quiet a few more moments, his piercing gaze boring into Dean so hard that the hunter felt like his very soul was being scoured. Finally, when he spoke at last, his voice was wary. "Angels do not give birth. We do not 'cloud seed' as you put it. Only an angel with a vessel has any ability to procreate and it is strictly forbidden."

Dean quirked an eyebrow. "So then where do new angels come from?"

Hezrial seemed to falter a moment, his gaze sizing the other man up but he answered anyway. "Only god can create new angels. Father makes them and places them within the care of their older brethren but there has been no new clutch of host for over two thousand years. Why do you ask these things, Dean Winchester?"

Dean hedged and tried to swap subjects. He wasn't quite comfortable yet telling this unknown angel about Castiel's unfortunate condition. "Ok, what can you tell me about the demon Belial?"

Well, THAT got a response. Hezrial flinched openly at the name and drew away from Dean as if the hunter had just cursed him, his luminous brown eyes going wide as saucers. He seemed instantly uncomfortable in the confines of the vehicle as if it were suddenly too small and he fell silent as his eyes flitted about in a way that indicated he was looking for someone, as if saying the demon's name might actually summon him. Dean found himself unconsciously speeding up a little and glancing in the rearview. It looked like his passenger might bolt at any sudden movement and anything that made an angel nervous was certainly not something Dean wanted to run into unprepared. After a few seconds the angel relaxed a bit and threw a sidelong glance at Dean. "He isn't a demon," he said after brief but awkward pause, "He's one of the fallen." The words were whispered with something caught between reverence and disgust. "And you would do best to forget that name. You are no longer needed as the vessel of Michael, Dean, and while all of the host know who you are and what you did, few have time to answer your call anymore. You would be hard pressed to get any assistance."

Dean's irritation flared. "Yeah, then what are **you** doing here? If everyone in heaven is so damned busy then why did you show up?"

Hezrial looked away and a ghost of a smile passed over his face. "Castiel likes you," he said quietly, "My brother is strong and was brave to resist the will of his command in favor of the will of father." The way the angel was speaking bordered somewhere on the lines of hero worship. "It takes a lot of wisdom to see the difference though most say he only did it because of his affection for you." He turned those soulful eyes back in Dean's direction making the other man squirm. It made him decidedly uncomfortable to be stared at that way. "I wanted to see what he saw. I wanted to know what had driven him to rebel against his brothers. What he saw in you that made you worth that fight."

Dean pointedly looked anywhere but at his passenger, determined not to meet the penetrating stare that was making him feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. "And?"

"And I think I understand now," Hezrial said softly.

Dean finally risked looking over at him. "Thanks for the vote of confidence but I swear if you try to hug me or anything creepy like that, I will shoot you." He shifted a little farther toward his own window and breathed a grateful sigh when he pulled up beneath the massive rose window of the St. Andrew's church. "Look, let's move this little pow wow inside. I have some other questions I'd like answers to and …" He turned to look at the angel but found the passenger seat was already empty and when he turned back to the church, it was to find Hezrial patiently standing on the narrow stone steps leading inside. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and spat out a few choice curses. "Freakin' angels," he grumbled as he slid out of the car. Hezrial followed him through the blast of cold air into the main nave of the church. Long dark wood pews hunkered in neat rows beneath windows that painted them in a blanket of dazzling colors and a plush but well worn carpet stretched like a red arrow straight down between them, terminating at the foot of a sparse but pretty altar. Dean skirted around the small basin of holy water and meandered down the aisle. Behind him he could hear the shuffling footfalls indicating Hezrial was still tailing him like a lost puppy and after taking a quick look around to see if anyone else was about, he turned to face the angel. Only to come face to face with him. Hezrial had also apparently never heard of personal space and Dean took a quick step back as he almost bumped into the other man.

"Hey, whoa. Little close there, pal. I don't need you to check my breath, alright? Jeez." Dean paused and met the even stare of his companion. The way he was being looked at made his nerves rankle and he rolled his shoulders as if to brush off the eyes that had locked onto him. "Dude. Seriously. Stop staring. You are freakin' me the hell out." Dean shot him a last grouchy look and turned away. "So, don't suppose you could tell me if there's anyone up there that might want Cas or Gabe out of the way, huh? Anybody they might have pissed off lately?"

"No, not that I am aware."

"Right, so everything in heaven is just peachy," Dean said with disbelief.

"It IS heaven, Dean," Hezrial said with all the patience of one talking to a very young child.

"Yeah, well I've been there, ok? So spare me the huggy kissy kumbaya crap. You said everyone was too busy to help us anymore. Why?" He turned sharply on the angel.

Hezrial blinked languidly in the face of Dean's anger. "Most of the archangels, with the exception of Gabriel, had gone missing in the aftermath of the apocalypse. The host was in a state of chaos. Then Castiel returned, reinstated by Father himself, and he began the task of reorganizing heaven. When Gabriel showed up, also returned to us by Father's hand, most angels began to fall back into their appointed roles. Peace was starting to settle again." A look of something wistful passed over the angel's face but it was shunted aside so quickly that Dean could hardly register it. "Then, three days ago, Castiel and Gabriel went missing. They have many duties in heaven right now and when they did not return to them, a search was begun." If Dean didn't know better, he would have said that a look of worry flitted over the angel's face when he began speaking again. "There are…rumors. Some say that something ill has befallen our brothers and that the role of leadership must be filled quickly. So many of the host have been lost over these short years. There is much struggle right now as without the archangels there is no clear leader. Many are putting their name forward." He shook his head and looked at Dean. "I do not believe my brothers are dead. Nor can I believe that one of our own has harmed them."

Dean knew the statement was more Hezrial trying to reassure himself rather than anything meant for his ears. He also knew what it felt like to want to bury your head in the sand and pretend that those you cared about most weren't capable of horrible things. "I hate to be the one to break this to you, but I don't think you know your family as well as you hope. I can tell you for a fact that an angel had something to do with what's happened to Cas and Gabe."

Hezrial seemed to perk up at this and he cocked his head at Dean. "How can you know this?"

Dean leaned back casually against the pew behind him and weighed his options. His gut was telling him that Hezrial wasn't their rogue and he could certainly use all the help they might be able to get. Perhaps it was the slight gleam of anxiousness in the other being's eyes that was the final straw. He knew what it was like to be missing a brother and not have any idea where he was or if he was ok. "Because I know what's happened to Cas and only an angel could have done it. Look, Cas is fine right now…ok, maybe 'fine' is stretching it, but he's not hurt. He's just kinda rockin' it pre-school instead of old-school."

Hezrial took a step forward before he seemed to catch himself. "You know where he is? What has happened?"

Dean swallowed and tried to force a smile onto his face. "So you know that question I was asking you earlier? About the whole baby angel thing?" he said as lightly as he could.

The other man's expression morphed from utter confusion to shock to confusion again. "You mean…my brother has been reduced to a newborn again? I do not understand."

The hunter shrugged. "You ain't the only one, pal. But yeah, Cas is now part of the diaper crowd. He hatched out of a friggin' egg a couple days ago. As for why, we think that someone wants to use him for some kind of ritual."

Hezrial looked horrified at the whole idea and he shook his head in denial before turning and wandering up the walkway a few paces, his face twisted in deep thought. When he finally turned back to Dean, he seemed to have accepted the situation as truth and his brow was set with deep lines of worry. "This is…very troublesome. The grace of a newly formed angel is far weaker than that of one who is fully developed and it will make him vulnerable. I pray you are wrong about the intention to sacrifice him. To kill a new formed angel is an ultimate act of sacrilege, an act so evil that it can do irreparable damage. Any number of demons would benefit…" He looked away suddenly and Dean could almost see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in the angel's head. "Belial," he whispered, "you believe he is behind this? Surely we would have heard if he had freed himself from his confines. He would be powerful enough to have changed Castiel in this way but he could not do so from the depths of hell."

Dean pushed off from the pew. "Yeah, that's the problem. See we know he's involved, we just don't know how he's doing all this. We think he's got help from somebody in upper management."

"No," Hezrial said, "He can't. It would take more than just a random angel to do what you claim has befallen my brother. Only an archangel first class could make such a change and with Gabriel also missing, that leaves no angel in all of heaven who could have done this. Have you any word of Gabriel?"

"Kinda but you're not gonna like it." Dean shot him a sympathetic look. "We think Belial has him already and that he's got plans to use him in some mumbo jumbo sacrifice that's supposed to seal off Lucy's cage all the way."

If angels could pale, Dean would swear Hezrial actually did which meant he probably knew exactly what ritual the hunter was referring to. The young man swallowed and looked up forlornly at the carving of an emaciated looking Jesus above the altar. "We will continue to seek out Gabriel's location. You should bring Castiel to me."

Dean's hackles raised instantly. "I don't think so."

As the angel looked at him again, the mask of infuriating calm slid back into place. "He isn't safe here, Dean. You cannot protect him this way. Your human eyes are barely even capable of looking at him, how will you defend him?"

"Oh I can see him just fine," Dean snapped, "little fluffy wings and all. And there is no way in hell I'm handing him over to someone I don't even know."

Hezrial cocked his head slightly. "'Fluffy little wings'?" he echoed in obvious confusion. "Newly formed hosts would appear as little more than a bright flare of light to humans. They have not been around long enough to have formed any sort of shape yet." He seemed to contemplate the situation for another minute and then looked up with raised eyebrows. "His vessel," he said pointedly. Dean could only raise an eyebrow in question. "James Novak. His vessel. If Castiel was still within that body when he was reverted back to a juvenile form, it is entirely possible that his vessel would have been reverted with him. You said he hatched from an egg so he must have been pushed pretty far back into his forming. The human body he possesses, if regressed that far, could have been reduced to little more than its basic components and mingled with his grace. It would explain why you are able to see him and the manifestation of his wings."

Dean stared at him humorlessly. "Fascinating. Now, if we're done with 'Wild Kingdom' over here, I'm leaving." He started for the door and found his way blocked as Hezrial stepped in front of him.

"Dean, regardless of Castiel's physical form, his grace is still diminished. He must be protected until we find Gabriel. My brother can put this right, he can change Castiel back, but we cannot risk the Fallen getting their hands on him. You must take me to Castiel. I will take him back to heaven where he will be safe."

Dean met the angel's imploring look with a scowl. "Dude, I don't know if you have a hearing problem or not, but I already said I'm not handing him over to you. We still don't know if there's a rogue out there somewhere."

"I told you that there is no angel powerful enough to have done this," Hezrial started but Dean cut him off abruptly.

"That's nice but I'm not about to take your word for it. Cas is fine with us. I'm not gonna let you just drag him off to god knows where and hope that there's not a Judas among your happy pack of apostles. You just concentrate on finding Gabe and I'll worry about Cas." He pushed past the angel and headed for the exit but as he opened the door to the church he almost ran smack into the very same angel again. Hezrial was standing utterly stiff and straight on the steps and the look in his eyes reminded Dean quickly that he wasn't just talking to some punk kid with a silly mohawk.

"Dean Winchester, I cannot allow you to keep Castiel in this manner. I **am** taking him," he said with finality and Dean was pretty sure he meant it, even if he had to take Cas back by force.

Dean took a step back and shrugged his jacket off. "Yeah, I kinda figured at some point, whoever I was going to wind up talking to was going to act like a complete dick and let me tell ya, you guys do NOT disappoint," he said, shaking his head as he slipped off his outer shirt as well. Blood ran in a thick smear down his right arm and Hezrial cocked his head at the strange injury that the young Winchester seemed to be ignoring. "Thing is, I've never been pegged as the smart one. See, Sam is the smart one. Me? I'm just the stubborn and incredibly handsome one," he said with a smirk, "and I'm afraid you are going to have to take Cas away over my dead body." He took a menacing step forward toward the angel who looked anything but impressed by the whole display.

"Need I remind you, Dean, that such a thing is perfectly within my capability," Hezrial stated in the same bland tone one would use to discuss the weather.

"Not today, asshole," Dean said with a bright grin, "Let me show you a little trick Cas taught me." He wrenched up his bloody sleeve and there, etched into his arm, was the same enochian symbol Castiel had drawn into his own skin when he'd defended Sam and Dean from Zachariah's bodyguards. It had seemed a fitting homage to use the same tactic in this case as a convenient back door in case things went horribly wrong. Dean threw Hezrial a cocky smile and slapped his hand over the bloodied wound. In a flash of light and a cry of pain, the angel was gone leaving the hunter standing alone on the steps. He sighed and began wrapping the sliced skin with a wad of bandages he pulled from his pocket before retrieving his shirt and jacket. As he climbed back into the car, Dean pulled out his cellphone and flipped it open intent on calling Sam. His display blinked at him however that he had somehow already missed 14 calls, all from the same number. All from his brother. Dean hurriedly dialed into his voicemail and began listening to the messages, each one more frantic than the previous but it was the last one that set his blood running cold.

"Dean, where the hell are you? Legion's right behind us! I can't stay hidden forever. Please, man, please pick up. Oh god…..Dean….hurry…"

The silence that followed those words was the loudest sound Dean had ever heard.


	15. Chapter 15: Hunting the Hunter

**A/N: **Ok, this was a little late getting out as it was longer than I'd intended it to be. Those of you who are astute will note the re-use of some of chapter 1 here as this officially brings us back to the beginning. ;) Don't worry, I have PLENTY more in store for our boys and things are only going to get worse before they get better. ;) Heh. In the meantime, please enjoy! As always, thank all of you for the love and support! I am so thrilled at the reception this story has received and I take all feedback seriously so thank you!

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**After Dean left: **

Sam watched as the red glow of the Impala's taillights faded in the distance before turning back to their small motel room. Cas snuggled tightly against the curve of his shoulder and he allowed himself a fond smile as he stroked the angel's hair. While he certainly was going to worry about his brother until Dean returned safely, Sam could also think of worse ways to pass an hour or two than sitting in the quiet of their room with their young friend. He shuffled back inside and made his way over to his bed, flopping down onto the freshly folded sheets and instantly undoing all the maid's hard work. As he leaned back against the headboard and took up the remote with his off hand, Cas scooted around to lay flat against his chest. Sam had to admit that their small angelic friend had certainly developed a taste for being held that he would never have expected from the normally stoic being. He chalked it up to simply being an aspect of childhood that perhaps Castiel had grown out of as he got older. Regardless, Sam was happy to oblige. He flipped idly through a few channels and spent a good hour watching everything from documentaries to local news. It was the latter that finally caught his attention though as a bright red bar flashing "breaking news" streaked across below the smiling face of the anchorwoman who had been talking only moments before about local fashion trends. Her expression dropped to something far more serious as she read aloud the information she'd just been handed.

"This just in. A local man who has not been yet identified was just arrested at Poppy's Tavern on Dishman Mica Road after apparently murdering one of the other patrons. It is unknown at this time what the motive was though we are told he may have been related to his victim. Witnesses say the man seemed to suddenly fly into a rage for no reason and brutally stabbed his companion at the bar without provocation. Three police officers were needed to bring the suspect under control but no other injuries have been reported. We'll bring you more as the investigation continues…"

Sam frowned even as the anchorwoman turned back to local events as if nothing had happened. It could be coincidence but his instincts were screaming that the whole thing seemed off for some reason. The bar in question wasn't terribly far from their small motel and something about a random murder occurring that close to them made him worry. Years of hunting had taught him not to ignore his gut feelings so Sam fished out his cell phone to give Dean a call; better to get a second opinion on whether they should worry about it than to just ignore what might be a bad sign. He punched in the speed dial and waited for a ring but his call was shunted directly to voicemail instead. Sam's frown deepened. Dean knew better than to turn off his phone after Sam specifically asked him to keep it on. He left a brief message and decided to give a quick call right back in case it was just a technical issue.

"Hi. If you know who you're calling, then you know how this works. Leave me a message. If you _don't_ know who this is…then stop calling me." _Beep_

Sam pulled the phone away and flipped it off without leaving a second message. Something was wrong. A small knot of worry began to settle in his gut and he glanced down at where Cas was comfortably resting. The infant was utterly at ease and that helped drain some of the tension off Sam's shoulders but the feeling was short-lived as a sharp rap sounded at the door a minute later. Castiel's head perked up and he stared intently in that direction as if he could see strait through it to the person on the other side. Sam watched the infant's reactions carefully as he slid from the bed and sure enough as he started toward the door, the delicate wings folded down tight against the child's frame and he cast large concerned eyes up toward his caretaker. Sam hesitated as the knock came again and the angel in his arms shifted nervously, turning his face away from the sound and his wings all but sealing themselves against his skin. Sam turned back instead and fished Castiel's floppy stuffed rabbit out from one of the overnight bags before heading into the bathroom. The sigils he and Dean had painted in there in preparation for Crowley's arrival were still in place and he was intending to take full advantage of them now. He dropped the bunny into the bathtub and then settled the reluctant angel down next to it. Cas turned and immediately glommed onto the toy with a death grip, his face burying into the soft white fur. Sam pulled a few thick white towels down and nestled them around the child even as a third knock sounded with more insistency than before.

Satisfied that the angel was safely ensconced within the protection of several devil's traps, the hunter made his way back over to the door and squinted through the peephole. The maid that had walked in on them earlier that day stood just outside, her impatient expression distorted heavily by the curved glass. Sam glanced back in the direction of the bathroom once more as his hand curled instinctively around the grip of his knife. Castiel hadn't shown any signs of discomfort around the woman when she'd first burst in on them that very morning so his sudden unease around her now didn't bode well and the hunter wasn't taking any chances. He steadied himself and unlocked the door, carefully blocking any view into the room with his own body. The woman's hand dropped from where she'd been reaching to knock again and she smiled sickeningly sweet at him as she gestured toward her cart. "You need cleaning?" she said in thickly accented broken English.

Sam waved her off with a pleasant smile. "No, we're fine. Thanks." He moved to close the door again only to find her hand placed flat against it.

"Towels?" she offered brightly.

Sam tried to keep his expression friendly even as he watched her eyes dart to the small space below his arm that revealed the room behind him. It was obvious she was looking for something and he was pretty sure he knew what already. Weighing his options quickly, he glanced around to make sure no one else was in the area before stepping out of the way to let her enter. She snatched a few fresh towels off the cart outside and bolted into the room with a little too much eagerness for Sam's tastes but he was already formulating exactly how to deal with this unfortunate turn of events and it didn't include letting her get out so she could inform others of their whereabouts. As soon as she entered the room, he calmly snapped the door shut behind her and then hurried to her side as she zipped toward the bathroom, her eyes flicking about with a great deal of interest. She sniffed the air a few times in a way that reminded Sam of a bloodhound and he swallowed down a shudder of disgust. He couldn't be positive yet that his instincts were right but he watched intently as she pushed open the bathroom door and took in all the sigils. Her expression faltered and she clucked her tongue quietly in disapproval but her eyes locked none the less onto the bathtub and the bundle of towels it contained.

"Cristos," Sam uttered from behind her. The woman tore her eyes away from Castiel's hiding spot and she turned slowly to look over her shoulder at him, her eyes flicking black for a moment. "That's what I thought," he said flatly. His hand slammed out and pushed her harshly into the bathroom and straight into the middle of a devil's trap set into the ceiling. She growled at him angrily before turning back toward the tiny form huddled in the bathtub. Her fingers curled claw-like as she reached for the infant only to find the way blocked by not only the edge of her own trap but all the sigils of protection etched along the edge of the tub as well. A frustrated snarl issued from the woman and she began looking about desperately for a way to get out but Sam was already rattling off the Latin exorcisms he'd come to memorize so well over the years and within a matter of minutes she was on her knees screaming as a thick column of black smoke poured from her mouth. As the scream faded away, the maid collapsed to the floor unconscious and Sam dropped down beside her to check her pulse. She was alive. He breathed a sigh of relief at not being forced to take another innocent life and reached over her to snatch Cas up from the tub. It was no longer safe to stay where he was.

Sam laid Cas onto his bed and hurriedly stuffed their belongings back into the small overnight bags they'd brought. He knew he wouldn't be able to take them with him right away but perhaps they could swing back once Dean picked him up. Either way, Sam knew he had to get out of the hotel quickly. Somehow the demons had once again found them and he couldn't take the risk of staying in place without knowing if another horde of hellspawn were converging on his location as they had done at Bobby's. He would be alone trying to defend Castiel and if the demons chose to use humans as their pawns again, then the sigils in the bathroom would offer no protection for the angel. He grabbed his backpack and began throwing a few of Castiel's clothes in it but a sound from outside caught his attention, freezing him in his tracks. Voices were raised in anger though the words were muffled and the sound distant enough to not pose an immediate threat.

Sam none the less moved over to the window and drew aside the curtain just enough to peek through. He could see two men across the street who seemed to have devolved into an all out screaming match at each other as those around them looked on with interest. Suddenly and without warning, one of the two lunged for the other and the pair dropped to the ground in a tangle of swinging arms and legs. The aggressor finally gained the advantage and Sam's mouth opened in mute protest as the other man's head was pounded brutally against the pavement. He wanted to go out there, to stop the senseless violence but he couldn't risk leaving Cas alone and he wouldn't risk taking him near the fight. Instead he was forced to watch helplessly as the beating continued until the victim's body simply went limp. Sam recoiled from the window and ran back over to Cas. He tugged his overshirt off and wrapped it around the infant, almost completely covering him, and then pulled the whole bundle, stuffed bunny and all, into his arms. He'd seen plenty of violence before but experience had taught him the sort of brutal murder he'd just witnessed in the street didn't happen without a reason and when paired with the demon attack as well as the killing that had occurred at the bar up the street, he knew something else had to be behind it all. Considering what Crowley had said about the affects Legion had on those around him, Sam feared the worst. Somehow, the demon had tracked them down and that was one battle he was sure he didn't want to face alone.

The overnight bags were left behind in favor of being as light as possible since Sam had the bad feeling speed was about to become incredibly important. He cradled his friend to his chest and quickly scanned the area for potential threats before ducking outside and hurriedly making his way to the end of the building. The crowd that had gathered across the street were too intent on what had just happened to notice the lone figure slipping into the late afternoon shade afforded by the side of the building and Sam broke into a light jog as soon as he was out of their line of sight. He balanced Cas with one hand and fished his phone back out, quickly jabbing in Dean's numbers as he pressed his back against the rough brick wall. Once again he was greeted only by the static voicemail message and his worry and frustration grew. "Dean, pick up your freakin' phone, man. A demon just possessed our maid and people are killing each other in the street outside our hotel. I…I think Legion might be here. I'm taking Cas and getting out. Not sure where I'll head yet but we need to steer clear of people right now. Just…call me when you get this." He snapped the phone shut with a frustrated huff and tried to tell himself his brother wasn't answering because Dean was Dean and maybe he turned it off just to be spiteful and it certainly couldn't be because something horrible had happened to him and…

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Cas shifted slightly in his arms and he immediately reached up to rub soothingly at the infant's back, carefully avoiding his wings beneath the flannel shirt. As much as he was worried about Dean right then, Cas was in more immediate need of his help and he refocused on just getting to someplace safe that he could hide out. He leaned cautiously around the back corner and then dashed across the small vacant lot behind the motel, picking his way among the strewn beer bottles and sun faded garbage that lay strewn about the pavement. He tucked carefully behind one of the large dumpsters and then slipped through a large hole where the chainlink fence separating the motel from the road behind it curled up like a sheaf of burnt paper. It was an awkward squeeze but he made it through without snagging his clothes or risking injury to the angel in his arms and then dashed down the sidewalk in the direction leading farther out of town. His eyes were constantly on the move as he walked, scanning for any sign of danger, and he placed another two calls to his brother before he finally spotted a sign ahead announcing "Dishman Hills Natural Area". To his left the city continued to sprawl out in endless rows of suburbia but area to his right had given way to a long line of thick trees and heavy underbrush. Sam paused and glanced between the two choices. He could potentially find a place to hole up among the myriad cookie-cutter homes that stretched out along the side of the road and so long as he avoided people, he and Cas would be fairly safe.

The decision was taken out of his hands though as a car rounded a bend behind him and began heading in his direction. Sam took an unwilling step back toward the forest edge. He would have to cross the state road to get to the neighborhood on the other side. As the vehicle approached though, he decided it would be better to wait for it to pass completely and better still if the person in it simply didn't see him or Cas. He turned and threaded his way through the brush and into the safety of the treeline, stopping a few feet in when he felt he was no longer easily visible from the road. The car zipped past and Sam began making his way back up but as he reached the very edge of the trees and could once again clearly see the road, he noticed that the vehicle had stopped up ahead and was turning around. Once more his instincts began rearing up and Sam ducked back down into the woods. He hurried farther in and dropped into a crouch behind a large tree, his ears straining to pick out any sign of the vehicle. It could be nothing, just some tourist with bad directions, he told himself but his hopes were smothered as the car slowed next to where he had slipped into the woodline. Another demon maybe? Cas was staying still and silent against his chest but Sam wasn't sure how close a demon had to be before the angel would be able to sense it. He had no intentions of finding out either.

As soon as he heard the car door open, Sam turned and fled farther into the cool shade of the woods, his mind reeling as he tried to figure out how the demons were finding them. He pressed his precious cargo to his chest and shielded the infant from any low hanging branches as he ran. Behind him he could hear a few twigs snapping signaling that he was definitely being followed. He barreled on as fast as he could, ignoring the snag of brambles against his jeans and t-shirt until he skidded to a stop above a steep ravine. He couldn't risk climbing down with the infant in his arms so Sam turned to his left and raced down along the edge. He chanced a glance back and saw a large man skid to a halt at almost the same place he had. The man turned to look at him, a scowl written over his face, and then headed straight in Sam's direction. Sam tore off again and this time he could feel Cas burrowing into a smaller ball around his stuffed animal. It was all the sign Sam needed to know that his pursuer was indeed a demon. He cussed his luck and wrenched out his knife as he ran.

"Nice trick in the bathroom," he heard the creature behind him scream, "It won't be that easy this time, boy."

Sam cussed aloud. Apparently the demon he'd sent back to hell had somehow spread the message to the ones still up top. Considering how badly all the demons they'd encountered thus far had wanted to get their hands on Castiel, he didn't have a hard time believing that they'd all jump at any news of the angel's whereabouts. If he and Dean were going to keep Cas safe, they were going to have to figure out how the demons were finding them in the first place and put a stop to it. In the meantime though, Sam had a more pressing issue to deal with. He slammed on the brakes and wheeled around, his arm snapping out and the knife flying from his fingertips with laser-like precision. If the demon had expected easy prey, he was going to be sorely mistaken. The blade hit its mark and plunged into the creature's chest. It wasn't sunk all the way but it was enough to do its job none the less and the demon screeched in agony as light flared beneath its skin. The lifeless body tumbled to the ground and for a brief moment, Sam felt bad for the poor bastard who's body had been possessed. He couldn't let that stop him though as the demons would spare him no such mercy.

Sam retrieved his knife and wiped it off on the unfortunate man's jacket. At least this demon wouldn't be going back to hell to spread the word. He pulled back the folds of his shirt some and brushed reassuringly at the angel's hair causing Cas to finally raise his head from where it had been buried in his stuffed rabbit. Large blue eyes blinked up at him and Sam bent his head to place a soft kiss in the infant's hair. The child hadn't even been bathed since all this started and yet somehow he still smelled like fresh linens to Sam. The thought brought a smile back to the hunter's face. Angel babies were definitely easier to care for than human ones. He chuckled lightly and took a step back toward the road but pulled up short when the hair on the back of his neck rose. He couldn't see anything within the shade of the trees that should be cause for alarm but his instincts were once again screaming that he needed to head in the other direction and Sam took a few steps back. The smell of fresh soil met his nose and for some reason it his stomach lurch. He turned and immediately rushed farther away from the road, heading deeper into the nature preserve. As he ran, he kept waiting for someone to burst out of the brush behind him but the path he was blazing belonged only to he and Cas and after a few more minutes he came across a well worn trail that ran further into the woods. Knowing he would make better time out on the nature trail, Sam turned and headed down it at top speed. The way was much easier going and as he ran further in, the heady scent of tilled earth faded and died behind him.

He risked pulling out his cell phone once more and quickly punched in Dean's number again. Still no answer. "Dean, this isn't funny. Turn your damn phone on. I got Cas out of the room but there's still demons on our trail. I don't know how they're finding us but we need to get the hell out of this town. I'm in a nature park right now. I'm heading….south I think. Call me when you get this. Please!"

Sam redialed the number again a few more times, his frustration mounting with each successive call as they went unanswered until he had to stop himself from wanting to throw the damned phone into the woods. The trail he was on wound farther and farther down, skirting along the edge of a deep ravine filled with bright yellow lilies and fragrant bluebells. The sight would have been amazing had Sam not been too preoccupied with the thick knot of worry that was plaguing him. It had been almost an hour and a half since Dean had left and Sam was left wishing his brother would pick up the phone. Sure, he'd be pissed if he found out Dean was ok and had just shut the phone off but it was better than the alternative. Castiel didn't have any such worries though and he perked up from his hiding spot within Sam's shirt to peer around with great interest at the wonders of nature all around them. He freed his wings with a few minutes of struggle made all the more difficult since he wouldn't let go of the bunny with more than one hand and they flicked excitedly as every corner Sam rounded presented them with new views. By the time Sam came to a fork in the trails, he was panting slightly and his t-shirt was soaked through with a healthy layer of sweat. He paused and glanced back over his shoulder in the direction he'd just come but it didn't look like he was being followed anymore. Sam gratefully paused and took the moment to lean against a tree and catch his breath.

Castiel turned to watch him as the hunter tried to slow his breathing. He looked down at the toy clutched tightly in his grip and then back up at his obviously tired protector and after a moment of hesitation the infant held the bunny up in offering, pressing the fluff gently beneath Sam's chin in the hopes it would make him feel better. Sam chuckled softly and pressed the toy back into the angel's arms. "It's ok, Cas. You keep it but thanks anyway." The child smiled shyly at him and pulled the bunny back to himself, chubby little arms wrapping possessively around it as he laid his cheek against the top of its head. Sam gently smoothed down a few wayward locks of dark hair as they curled up in the slight breeze that raced through the trees around them. "We're gonna be ok," he whispered as much to himself as to the infant in his arms, "Dean'll be back soon. He's gonna come get us and then we'll get out of here. Then I'll get ya some more honey or something." Cas nuzzled up against the hand in his hair in response and Sam grinned. He took the respite to give yet another call to Dean who still wasn't answering his phone but Sam left another message anyway updating his brother on their current location. He took another minute to finish resting before pressing on again in the hopes of getting out the other side of the park and back onto a paved road. Dean would need them to be closer to a highway or state access road if he was going to get to them in any timely manner and the sooner they could leave town after Dean found them, the better.

Sam no longer felt the need to run but he didn't take up a leisurely pace either. His concern over Dean's current situation had him rushing to get back to at least some semblance of civilization in the hopes that he could activate his brother's GPS and if need be make his way in that direction. He had gone a good two hundred more feet before that familiar scent of fresh soil hit his nose again and Sam paused as he tried to figure out what about the smell was bothering him so much. There was plenty of dirt around them but something about the scent reminded him of fresh dug graves more than the pleasant odor of warm sun kissed soil. As he stood smelling the air, Cas suddenly went rigid in his his arms and let out a thin strained sound that immediately had Sam on edge. He looked down to find the child staring intently in the direction they'd come from. The boy recoiled from something Sam couldn't see among the relatively innocuous trees and began scrambling to put himself as far as possible from the path behind them. He shifted and scooted toward the middle of Sam's chest forcing the hunter to clutch him tightly lest he fall. In the next heartbeat Sam knew exactly what was bothering the angel as the distant cry of a hound caught his ears. Deep, low, and guttural, the sound was anything but natural and Sam's heart sank. Hellhounds.

He turned and ran headfirst down the nearest trail, his legs pumping as fast as he could go as he tried to put distance between himself and the creatures no doubt hunting him now. Castiel clung even tighter to his shirt and let out a terrified whine when the hounds sounded again in the distance. Sam wrenched his phone back out of his pocket and dialed Dean's number once again. He cursed loudly when all he got was the same answering machine message. The trail seemed to go on for forever, winding in and out among steep ravines, little creeks, and amidst a whole rainbow of flora that bloomed on either side. Two deer turned and fled as Sam burst through the small field they had been grazing in but he barely noticed their presence. The trail curved steadily northward once more and he was making record time flying down it, his long legs eating up distance with every stride. The sound of the hounds grew closer behind him and he risked glancing back in time to see a dark figure slowly advancing through the trees on the other side of the gorge he'd just skirted around. He didn't get a good look but what he did see burned into his mind like a brand. Sharp green eyes had met his own for just a moment, filled with such hate that it had caused a slight falter in Sam's steps. Darkness had swept over his mind like a wet blanket threatening to suffocate him but he tore his eyes away and pushed himself harder to put more distance between himself and the monster behind him.

He blew through another junction without stopping since one way seemed just as valid as another without any map to guide him and continued northward until a set of ponds came into view. The reeds were thick around the edge and algae formed a bright green carpet over most of the shallow water. Sam rushed headlong for one of them and slipped into the chilly water. Mud sucked at his shoes as he waded through them and headed for a large open drainage pipe poking out from a steep bank that fed into the larger of the two ponds. If he were lucky, the heady smells of the lake would mask his own and hide both he and Cas from the hounds. He would never outrun them, not with Cas in his arms, and he needed to give them a little breathing space. He slogged his way through even as the sound of the baying creatures grew louder and almost dropped Cas when his foot caught on a submerged tree stump. Finally though he made it to the relative safety of the pipe and crawled inside. He scooted in until he was far enough away from the opening to remain hidden.

"It's gonna be ok," Sam urged in whispered tones as he drew in tighter around the trembling bundle in his arms. Small fingers curled into the soft material of his t-shirt and he tried not to think about how dirty and grungy that t-shirt was honestly as he scooted further into the open pipe he was currently hiding in. Sweat, mud, and algae were plastered to his clothes and as he looked at the bunny his friend was clinging to, he could see it would need to be replaced since its lower half was not a dingy brown. He gently tugged on the oversized plaid shirt Castiel was wrapped in and carefully tucked it up around his friend's shoulders to hide the soft glow of light that surrounded the tiny appendages protruding from his back. He couldn't risk the light catching the wrong sort of attention and giving them away despite the fact that he hated covering the little wings. It was the only set of actual angel's wings he'd ever seen or ever would for that matter and he had come to enjoy the sight. He drew out his phone and once again called Dean. ""Dean, where the hell are you? Legion's right behind us! I can't stay hidden forever. Please, man, please pick up," the cry of the hounds interrupted him and Sam knew he didn't stand much chance of staying hidden from them for long. "Oh god…..Dean….hurry…"

The cry of the hounds drew closer and Sam tried to soothe his friend the best he could as he waited to see what would happen. He drew his knife out and turned to put himself as much as possible between Cas and the hellhounds. The baying turned to snarls and growls punctuated by deep barks but the monsters appeared to have stopped at the edge of the lake where Sam had disappeared. He held his breath and waited but they didn't get closer. The smell of soil once again permeated the dank air around him and Sam found himself willing down the urge to vomit as his stomach lurched again. He pushed at the welling mix of confusing emotions which began rearing in his head, anger, despair, and fear all waging a war for dominance, but they were far easier to cast aside with the tiny angel pressed against him and Sam was able to maintain control. The sound of approaching footsteps had Sam scooting silently into the darkness around him, sliding ever further into the dank pipe he was hiding in. His jeans were soaked with water, his hands shaking with the cold of the air below ground, but the point of light in all of that darkness was Castiel, who wordlessly shifted to let Sam carry him farther away from danger. The child radiated heat in a way that reminded Sam of sitting in a window in summertime with the sunlight pouring over him and it renewed his silent vow that he'd die before he let the demons get to his friend. "Damn it, Gabriel," Sam muttered under his breath. Perhaps it wasn't fair to lay the blame for this odd situation squarely on the archangel's shoulders since the demon's arrival wasn't his fault, but Castiel's current condition certainly was and that was good enough for Sam. If Gabe hadn't gone and gotten himself kidnapped, Cas would be back to normal already and the four of them together could easily take care of anything hell had to throw at them. He half wondered if Dean was going to kill Gabe when he finally got to him.

The footsteps halted above him and Sam stopped breathing entirely as he willed the monster to pass them by. The air was so thick with the smell of earth that it was almost choking and Sam looked on horrified as the reeds at the opening of the pipe all withered and died. The algae faded brown and even the moss growing around the edges of the pipe wilted and shriveled. He half expected those horrible eyes to appear and lunge into the pipe after him but nothing happened. The air around him suddenly erupted in a crack of thunder and a flare of light so bright it was almost blinding. The atmosphere became electrified and from his precarious spot in the wet tunnel, Sam could see dangerous arcs of lightening singing the edge of the pond. In the next breath it was gone along with the cry of the hounds and the smell of soil leaving Sam waiting for the other shoe to fall. After a few long minutes Cas began to stir and unfolded himself a bit from where he'd been curled. The infant looked up at him just as perplexed as he was but Sam wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth and he crept back to the entry of the pipe. There was no sign of the hounds and as he came up to the top of the bank he saw no sign of the demon either save for a large brown ring where all the grass had died. Scorch marks like those he'd seen in their hotel room were burnt in thin ribbons on the ground a few feet away but there was no sign of what had caused them. Perhaps Dean had managed to reach an angel and had gotten his messages for help but it seemed strange that there was no battle, no sounds of struggle and no attempts to locate him afterwards. Sam wasn't about to argue the point though and he took the opportunity to make a break for it anyway.

He ran for the trails on the other side of the ponds and headed down them at break-neck speed. He'd barely entered the woods on the other side when he once again heard the hounds start up. "Oh you have GOT to be kidding me," Sam huffed in frustration. He couldn't figure out why the demon would call off the chase just to put it back in motion again though it was possible it had escaped whoever had interrupted it last time but Sam had little time to think it over as the cries once more headed in his direction. Suddenly the wafting notes of music hit his ears and it took Sam a minute to realize that it was his phone. He tugged the device loose as he ran and flipped it open, relief flooding him as Dean's worried voice came over the line.

"Sam? Where are you? You ok?" Dean called frantically over the phone.

"NO, I'm NOT ok, Dean! Where the hell have you been? I've got hellhounds on my ass and I think Legion is here! I'm in the nature area. How fast can you get here?" Sam shouted as he ran. It was harder to run with a phone to his ear and a child in his arms but he pressed himself to keep his current pace.

"I'm not more than five to ten minutes from you. I'm on my way now. Just keep running. I've got your GPS turned on and if you keep heading west you should get back to a highway. I'll meet you there."

"Make it five, Dean. I can't stay hidden from the hounds for long," Sam panted as he came upon yet another fork in the road. The trail diverged north and south instead of east and west leaving him guessing which way to go. He chose the path southward and ran down it as the hounds closed in behind him.

"I'll make it five," Dean confirmed and Sam could hear the Impala's engine rev even higher as his brother stepped on the gas, "you just keep your ass alive till I get to you, ok?" There was a tightness to Dean's voice that belied his worry but there was little Sam could do to alleviate it since he was pretty damn worried himself.

"Trust me, I'm trying." Sam snapped his phone shut and turned his attentions fully back to just keeping one step ahead of the monsters tailing him. He stumbled as his foot caught on an uneven rock sending him to the ground in a tangled heap but he managed to turn in his attempt to keep Castiel from getting hurt and took the brunt of the fall instead on his back and side. The impact hurt like hell and knocked the wind from him, eliciting a squeak from Cas as well that indicated he'd been squeezed a bit too tightly when the hunter fell, but Sam didn't stay down for long. He rolled right back to his feet and pointedly ignored the pain lancing through his hip and into his ribs. He was sure he'd be bruised in the morning but it was a far cry better than being torn to shreds right then. The chase seemed to drag on forever and Sam was beginning to think he'd gone the wrong direction when the dirt trail gave way to pavement. It led in a thin black ribbon toward a lighter section of woods where the trees thinned considerably and Sam threw what little energy he had left into pushing through those last few kilometers into the clearing beyond. As he pushed through the last of the trees he saw the familiar and all too welcome sight of the Impala idling by the side of the road. Sam forced his tired and bruised body to close the distance between him and salvation as Dean burst forth from the vehicle and raced toward him. He wanted to tell his brother to get back in the car but his burning lungs had given up on trying to gain enough air to form words and all he managed was a tired wheeze.

Dean wrenched the back door open and Sam gratefully collapsed into the back seat. He felt his legs being shoved unceremoniously out of the way and he was pretty sure he heard his brother mutter something about "freakishly tall" before the door slammed shut behind him. Dean climbed back into the driver's seat and floored the gas sending the Impala lurching forward in a haze of burnt rubber and smoke. Castiel was still clinging tightly to Sam's chest and he let out another displeased squeak as the car was thrown violently into gear. Sam looked down to check if the infant was alright and was met with the sight of a shocked and somewhat frazzled angel whose thick locks were sticking out in every conceivable direction. Dirt and sweat marred the normally smooth ivory skin of his tiny face and Sam moved to wipe it away only to realize his own hands were far from clean. The two of them were a right mess and he decided that bathtime was definitely in order once he could convince his heart to stop trying to escape from his throat.

Dean floored the gas pedal as he put the park behind him. He'd heard the cries of the hounds and wasn't about to risk them catching up. As he looked in the rearview mirror though, it wasn't hounds that met his eyes. There, standing like a statue in the middle of the road, was a lanky looking man with vibrant red hair hanging in a limp curtain all the way down to his shoulders. His face was a twisted mask of utter hate and his eyes were so vivid green they almost seemed to glow. Pale skin stretched over muscle and bone so tightly it made the man look more like a dried husk than a person and ragged clothing hung in tatters from his skeletal form. Dean found his breath catching unpleasantly and he tore his eyes from the man to concentrate on keeping the car on the road. He hadn't been formally introduced but it didn't take a genius to figure out who he'd just seen watching them drive away and the hunter was determined to put as much distance between them and the demon as possible. As he rounded a corner and headed for the winding streets of the city once more, Dean chanced looking back again only to find the road behind them utterly empty.


	16. Chapter 16: Bathtime

**A/N:** Meh, not my best by far but I've re-written it a few times and this is what I've got. This chapter was originally supposed to be more plot but I'd been asked to make the chapters a bit shorter and several of my friends threatened to knee-cap me if I didn't write out the Castiel bathtime scene. So yeah, since I value my mobility, this is what I saw in my head. Hope it comes across well. :/

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Dean didn't stop driving until they had put Washington state far behind them. Their overnight bags had been given up for lost since it was no use trying to go back. The meager clothing they contained could be replaced and they held nothing else so valuable it was worth revisiting a location they knew the demons might be waiting for them. The drive was tense and silent until Dean crossed over the state border into Idaho as Sam hadn't bothered moving from his crumpled position in the back seat and Cas had remained as quiet as ever, perched on the hunter's chest. With the state behind them finally, Sam dared crawling up into the front next to Dean, his hip and side protesting the movement and reminding him of his fall earlier. He settled in with a tired sigh and rubbed absently at Castiel's back. The angel had made no move to rid himself of the oversized shirt wrapped around him and that worried the hunter a little since the angel usually tried to free his wings every chance he got. Cas had instead hunkered down into the folds of warm cloth and hidden himself away as much as he could between his rabbit and Sam's chest. Legion's presence had definitely disturbed the infant much more than any previous demon encounter.

Dean couldn't figure out who he was worried about more. His little brother looked utterly worn out. Mud and dirt caked almost every inch of him and he reeked of stagnant water and sweat. Thin red lines crisscrossed his cheeks and the exposed skin on his arms from where branches and brambles had nicked him in his flight and dark circles were present under his eyes as the adrenaline of the day wore off at last. Castiel on the other hand he could barely see and that bothered Dean more than he thought possible. He was fighting down the urge to pull the car over just to check the angel for any injuries but he knew Sam wouldn't be sitting calmly if there was any chance Cas had been hurt. Instead he distracted himself by filling Sam in on what he'd learned from Hezrial. His brother was too tired to even argue when Dean tried to assure him that his phone _had_ been on but hadn't rang even once during the conversation with the angel. The lack of contention from Sam bothered Dean more than if he'd just lit into him about it and it only increased his worry.

Every big brother instinct Dean had was in overdrive by the time he pulled into a small town whose faded sign announced it as Clearview Acres. Squat houses lined the main road running through the community interspersed with the occasional business that was only identifiable as such due to the peeling and weathered signs hanging out front. A single theatre marked what Dean figured was the center of town and the choice in accommodations was made fairly simple since there were only two hotels to be found. Dean pulled into the first one he came to and booked them a room for the night before all but dragging his weary brother inside. Sam wordlessly let himself be led into the room and then headed straight for the bathroom with Cas still clutched in his arms. Dean hesitantly followed to the doorway. "Hey, I'll hold him while you're taking a shower," he offered.

Sam paused to think over the logistics of trying to hold an infant while he bathed before deciding better of it. "Yeah, alright, but he needs a bath too," he said tiredly as he handed the filthy bundle over to the waiting arms of his brother. He hated letting go of the angel but the idea of a hot shower was too tempting to resist and he knew Dean might have an easier time of coaxing Cas out of his hiding spot within the folds of the shirt. His brother had always had a stronger bond with their friend than Sam could claim and even in his infant form Cas reacted strongly to Dean's presence. It was a connection Sam now found himself envying a little but he pushed the emotion down in favor of concentrating on the lure of hot water on his sore muscles.

There was an immediate sense of relief for Dean as he accepted the angel into his arms. The hot shower would do Sam a world of good and it afforded Dean a chance to alleviate his desperate need to check Cas over for injuries. He doubted his friend was hurt but since he couldn't fret and fuss over Sam the way he wanted to when his brother was hurting, he turned all those protective urges toward the grungy bundle in his hands instead. He waited till he could hear the water running in the other room before making his way back to the two narrow beds jammed into their tiny sleeping quarters. He eased Castiel down onto his own mattress and peeled away the grimy layers of fabric to reveal the small angel hidden in them. Cas was curled tightly around the now stained rabbit whose once soft fur had become matted with algae and dirt. Dean frowned and brushed the back of his fingers along one chubby arm. "Hey Cas. Come on man, it's ok. No one's gonna hurt ya," he crooned gently.

The angel perked up at the sound of his voice and unfurled himself a little from his hiding spot. Castiel hesitated a minute as he looked at where Dean's fingers were still rubbing in slow sweeps up and down his arm. He seemed reluctant to let go of his rabbit but the lure of being held by Dean was apparently too strong and he finally let go of the bedraggled toy to reach for the hunter instead. Dean immediately obliged and plucked the infant up from the soiled clothing he'd been wrapped in. He shook his head as he got his first good look at their young friend. A large smudge of dirt marred the little upturned nose and his normally tousled hair was downright unruly after all the running and hiding. Something that looked suspiciously like pond scum was smeared in a sickly green film over Castiel's shoulder and he was sticky with a thin layer of Sam's sweat and stagnant water. "Wow. I hate to say this dude, but you stink," Dean said, crinkling his nose.

Castiel merely blinked up at him with his usual detached stoicism. If his current state of disarray was bothering him, there was certainly no outward sign of it and as Dean brushed futilely at his wayward locks the angel relaxed farther into his shoulder. The wings he'd sealed tightly to his back finally loosened and unfurled, giving a few quick flaps before settling into a more relaxed position and he nuzzled up into the hand above him, effectively thwarting any attempt Dean was making at smoothing down his hair. His hands curled into Dean's t-shirt and he pushed forward in his attempt to snuggle under Dean's chin again. The hunter recoiled a bit as the smell rolling off the angel hit him but Cas was not about to be put off and he tugged at the t-shirt beneath him until he managed to gain enough leverage to get where he wanted to be. "Whoa! WHOA! Dude, NO! You're FUNKY, Cas. No snuggling till after…" Dean protested in vain as Cas finally nuzzled up against his neck. "Ah crap. That's just freakin' great. Thanks. Now **I** need a bath," he griped. He couldn't bring himself to be truly mad at the infant though as the angel made a quiet snuffling noise against his neck and his little hands kneaded happily in Dean's shirt.

The hunter sighed in defeat and rubbed at Castiel's back as he waited for Sam to finish up his own bath. The action was rewarded when Cas opened and fluttered his wings a few times before smacking his lips in contentment and nuzzling a little closer under Dean's chin. "Yeah, yeah. You're cute. Don't push it," the hunter grumbled. He couldn't help the smile tugging at the corner of his lips though that belied his words. Much as he didn't want to admit it, he was grateful for the bundle of warmth pressed under his chin regardless of how the angel smelled. The alternative wasn't something he could bear thinking about and if he'd been more given to introspection in that moment it would have surprised him how much the little angel had come to mean to him over the few short days since he'd hatched. His friendship with Castiel had always been odd and often strained over the years he'd known him but he'd found himself caring about the awkward being more and more as time passed and Castiel's sudden departure a year ago had hurt more than he'd been willing to admit. Now that the angel was back and in this helpless form, Dean had latched on to that feeling of being truly needed again.

The shower turned off a while later and Sam re-emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. The circles under his eyes were still there but much less pronounced and he no longer looked like a failed attempt at a B movie swamp monster. Dean had curled up on his bed with Cas and was by that point holding his nose to ward off the smell but he'd made no move to dislodge the infant. Sam gave him a smirk that said he was trying not to laugh. "What?" Dean said defensively, "he wanted to cuddle."

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "Bathroom's all yours."

Dean didn't need to be told twice and he bolted up from the bed in his urgent need to clean off the child he was holding. He turned on the water and plugged the tub before stripping down to his boxers. Castiel's tiny jeans were a mess as well and Dean tossed them into the sink for washing later. Cas watched the whole ordeal with detached interest until Dean lifted him up and then stepped into the tub. The hunter sank down into the warm water and set the angel down, turning off the tap when the water reached midway up Castiel's chest. The infant raised his wings to keep them from getting wet at first and he looked around perplexed before turning curious eyes up at Dean. Sam arrived a moment later, dressed in clean clothes and looking much happier for it, with a small plastic cup he'd grabbed from the sink. "You might need this," he said with a lopsided smile as he sank down next to the tub.

"Thanks," Dean said snagging the offered cup and scooping up a small amount of the warm water before pouring it in a thin line between the angel's wings. He wasn't sure how Cas would react to getting them wet but as the water poured down his spine, the infant flapped them quickly in surprise and they slapped flatly against the surface of the bath. Cas didn't seem to mind too much though and after a moment, he let them simply relax, spreading the long glowing feathers out against the water like luminescent lily pads. Dean grinned over at Sam. "Huh, what'dya know. I think he likes it." His statement was cut short with a sharp exclamation as Cas discovered his big toe hidden below the surface of the water. The angel had reached out and grabbed hold of it and was, at that moment, prodding curiously at the bottom of Dean's foot. Dean shifted and bit his bottom lip. "Ticklish! Ticklish! Cas, not cool!" He peeled the angel away and turned him the opposite direction while Sam devolved into a fit of laughter. "Dude, that is NOT funny. We have _seriously_ got to get him a rubber ducky or something else to play with instead."

Castiel gave one last fleeting glance at the foot Dean had scooted all the way to the other end of the tub before turning back to prod at his knee instead. Dean shrugged in defeat. At least his knees weren't ticklish. He picked up the discarded plastic cup and scooped up more water to pour over the back of Castiel's head. The angel looked up at precisely the wrong moment though and caught a faceful of it instead, sending him into a fit of sputtering and coughing that had Sam rushing to his aid. Dean wasn't terribly panicked though, he'd had the same thing happen to Sam on numerous occasions when he was younger and he waved his brother off until the angel had stopped coughing. "See? That's what happens when you try to breathe water. Stop doin' that," he said playfully as he scooped up another cupful and poured it over the infant's head again. This time Castiel kept his face turned down to keep the liquid out of his nose and he blinked up at Dean from under the curtain of dirty water pouring off him. His dark hair was plastered to his head and he reached up to push at it in an attempt to get it out of his eyes.

"Can I wash his hair?" Sam asked imploringly.

"Be my guest," Dean replied as he leaned back against the cold tile.

Sam poured a small dollop of shampoo into the palm of his hand and smoothed it into the wet tangle of the angel's hair. Cas had gone back to poking at Dean's knee but he paused as the hunter massaged his scalp and instead pressed up into the large fingers. His eyes slid closed and he let out a small nasal sigh of contentment that had Sam grinning from ear to ear. Dean chuckled. "Don't get used to it, Sam. I don't think Cas is gonna let you do that to him once we get him back to normal."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Funny." The mental image of him trying to wash the fully grown angel popped into his head and Sam resisted the urge to punch his brother for putting it there. Some things he just didn't need to think about.

Dean gently tipped Castiel backward as Sam reached for the cup to rinse his hair out. "You don't wanna get it in his eyes," he said by way of explanation when Sam shot him a confused look. Cas looked utterly lost on what was happening as well. The hands that had been massaging his hair had disappeared and he'd been tipped over without much warning. He waited patiently though as Sam poured warm water over him and when Dean sat him back upright he quickly discovered the brand new fascination of all the bubbles drifting around him. He poked at them and started back as the first one popped. His attempts to grab the second one didn't fare much better but by the third one, Cas had figured out how to carefully scoop them up from the water. He watched the rainbow swirls dancing over its surface with rapt attention as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen, completely unaware that he was in turn being watched with great amusement by his two caretakers. Sam was leaning on the edge of the tub with a smile plastered on his face and Dean was leaning back with a lopsided grin. They let the angel play without interruption until all the bubbles had been popped or were too small to be much fun anymore before Dean snatched a washcloth from the rack above him. He didn't want to use something as harsh as hotel soap on the infant so he settled for a small dab of the shampoo and began the delicate task of scrubbing the dirt off their tiny friend. Cas tried to examine he washcloth which made washing him all the more difficult until Sam distracted him by dipping his hand in the water and making little ripples to catch the angel's attention. Cas latched onto Sam's fingers and happily examined those instead until he was completely clean, his skin a soft pink from all the gentle scrubbing.

Dean rinsed him off while Sam pulled down a thick towel to wrap him in and together the brothers managed to get the angel dried off without too much fuss. A fine spray of water droplets scattered around the counter as Castiel's wings shivered to rid themselves of moisture which saved Dean the trouble of trying to figure out how to dry them when he knew the angel didn't like them being touched. He bundled the infant up into one of the dry towels and lifted him to his shoulder to examine his handiwork. A bright, clean face stared up at him and the child's dark locks were puffed up in a fluffy tangle Dean couldn't hope to tame without a comb. Castiel smiled timidly at him and then suddenly leaned forward and grabbed hold of Dean's face. He planted a single clumsy kiss on one stubbled cheek and then curled down into the crook of the hunter's shoulder. Dean stood frozen and entirely uncertain on how to react but Sam was practically going into a fits over how cute it was and how he wished he'd had a camera. Somehow Dean doubted Castiel would really want that particular piece of tangible evidence floating about once he was back to normal. Some things a man just cannot live down if they ever get out among his peers and this, Dean was pretty sure, was one of those things. It would be hard to take an almighty angel of the Lord seriously if there was a photo of him fresh out of a bath, wrapped in a towel, and kissing a hunter on the cheek.


	17. Chapter 17: Last resorts

**A/N:** DUN DUN DUN! PLOT! Ok, so things are going to start ramping up a little now, I hope, as long as I don't get too awfully distracted by Baby!Cas making cute faces at me. Heh. I shall try to update soon so you can see where things go from here.

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The morning saw the Winchesters huddled around the small table in their hotel room as they planned over their next course of action. The remnants of their breakfast were still spread between them and Sam was pouring over his laptop in search of small towns within driving distance where they could relocate to. Neither hunter was willing to stay put for long what with how fast Legion had found them last time. Castiel sat curled up on Dean's lap basking in a pool of sunlight that had snuck in between the drawn curtains, blissfully unaware of the danger he was in. Dean thumbed absently over a single wayward tuft that curled up behind the infant's ear. His mind was elsewhere though as he tried to put all of the pieces of the puzzle together. They still didn't know who had turned Castiel into a baby and they weren't any closer to getting him back to normal either. What little information they did have was far from helpful and only served to put into perspective exactly how screwed they seemed to be. Not only was there a terrifying demon tracking them down but they still weren't sure who their rogue angel was. Hezrial had seemed so utterly certain that no angel from Heaven had been involved in changing Cas but Crowley had said that none of the angels in Hell were capable of getting out without help. Dean chewed on his bottom lip as his thoughts wound themselves into circles.

The distinctive thrum of Dean's ringtone broke the relative silence and Sam's head popped up over his monitor with interest as his brother fished out his cell. "Bobby," Dean informed him after checking the caller ID blinking up at him. He flipped open the phone and stretched back in his chair. "Hey, Bobby. Tell me you got something for us."

"Yeah, I got _somethin'_ alright," the older hunter drawled across the line, "butcha probably ain't gonna like it much. I did some research on this Legion demon and found a little bit a lore. There ain't a whole lot out there on him but I found a few old books that talk about him showin' up and wreakin' havoc. What Crowley said about him being made up from the damned souls of Cain and his kin seems to be right on and there's some pretty tell tale signs when he's around that you boys should be keepin' an eye out for. See, Cain killed his brother after God decided he liked Abel's gift more. Apparently Cain was a farmer and had sacrificed some crops so after he kills off Abel, God makes the earth reject him. Listen to this." There was the rustling of pages as Bobby flipped through some ancient tome on the other end. "'And they walked across the fields and the plants died beneath their feet. The smell of earth moved with them as God's reminder of what was lost and the ones known as Legion are ever marked by it.' So if you two start smellin' soil, ya need to git the hell outta there."

"Ok, great. So if it starts smelling like a greenhouse, run. Got it. Anything else?" Dean sighed as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He certainly hoped Bobby had called with something more helpful than 'if it smells funky, don't stick around'.

"Yeah, yeah. Hold yer horses. I'm gettin' to it. I could only find one passage anywhere that said anything about how to get rid of him but it ain't gonna be that simple ta pull off."

"Bobby, when the hell has anything we've ever done been 'that simple'?" Dean said with obvious frustration. He was getting tired of people saying that. After years spent fighting everything from monsters to the Devil himself, Dean was well aware that nothing in his life was ever going to be 'that simple'. Visiting old girlfriends required bringing weapons and rock salt so why would fighting this demon be any easier?

"Well aren't YOU in a good mood," Bobby groused in return.

Dean snorted and looked down to find Castiel peering up at him. The angel flicked his wings once and brought a hand up to fist into the hunter's shirt. His little head cocked inquisitively as he listened for the sound of Bobby's voice again. "Yeah, sorry," Dean said as he ruffled the infant's hair, "Just kinda hopin' we might actually get some good news for once." He could hear Bobby sigh over the line.

"Wish I could give ya some, son, but at least we got options now. Only thing I could find on how to get rid of him says that only the power of God can punish him, so we can't send him back to hell, but we CAN trap him. Just like an angel, we can keep him inside a circle, only instead of holy oil we need dirt." Dean could hear Bobby drop the book he was holding and a few seconds later he was rifling through another one he'd picked up from somewhere. "Legend says that Abel was buried in modern day Syria. Apparently his grave site is under the Nabi Habeel Mosque just west of Damascus and if we can get our hands on some of the grave dirt, we can use it to pin down Legion. The earth his brother was laid in forms a barrier he can't cross over."

Dean frowned across the table in Sam's direction and watched as his brother's brow furrowed with matched concern. "That's great, Bobby, but how the hell are we supposed to get dirt from another freakin' country?"

"Hell if I know," Bobby sighed unhappily, "but it was all I could find. There ain't a damned thing else on this guy anywhere."

Dean matched Bobby's sigh with one of his own and shrugged even though the other hunter couldn't see it. "Thanks anyway, Bobby. We'll figure out something. Just keep lookin' and we'll let you know when we get to the next town." He snapped shut the phone after a short goodbye and met Sam's curious gaze across the top of his monitor. "Bobby says the only way to stop Legion is with grave dirt from Abel's burial site under some mosque. Any ideas on how the hell we get to _Syria_?" Sam shot him a look that said plainly he was sure Dean had lost his mind and the older Winchester nodded. "That's what I thought." He looked down again at Castiel who had gone back to gazing out the window, his little face turned up into the warmth of late morning sunshine. "Looks like it's up to you, Cas. Start flyin'," Dean said jokingly. The angel looked up at the sound of his voice and cast him a flat unamused stare. "Yeah, didn't figure." He brushed a hand over the angel's head and turned back to Sam. "Did you find a good place for us to hole up next?"

Sam nodded and turned his screen to point at a consensus list he'd brought up for the neighboring states. He highlighted an entry labeled Randlett which showed a total population of only 224. "It's tiny and we can get there tonight if we leave after lunch. Should be small enough to keep us off the radar." Sam paused and looked down at the table for a minute. It was obvious he wanted to say something else but was trying to figure out how to word it. "Dean…we can't keep running from Legion forever. If this grave dirt is the only way to trap him, then we have to find a way to get some."

"That's great, Sam, any ideas on how?" Dean said with open sarcasm. It wasn't that he wouldn't kill to get his hands on some of that soil but he was pretty sure taking Cas on a plane ride across the ocean was a stupid idea. Not to mention he really hated flying.

"Actually, yeah," Sam offered. He looked up with an expression that said he already knew Dean wasn't going to like his idea. "You said you talked to an angel named Hezrial, right? Maybe we can call him back and ask him to go get some for us."

Dean blinked at Sam and resisted the urge to reach across the table and shake his brother like a maraca. "Did you miss the part where I said I banished him? Painfully? After he threatened to take _Cas_?"

"I know, Dean, but he might be our only option," Sam said. "We need someone who can get there and back quickly. Crowley can't do it because you said the grave site is under a mosque. That makes it holy ground so no demons and we don't know any other angels that can help us right now." He looked imploringly at his brother who was staring at him as if Sam had lost his mind.

"Ok, on the list of bad ideas we've had so far, this one is right up at the top," Dean snapped. "He's not gonna fall for that sigil trick twice, Sam. I call him and he's gonna come here and try to take Cas away. I am NOT letting that happen," he stated firmly. "Besides, what makes you think he's even gonna answer me after what I did? He'll probably just smite my ass from whatever cloud he's sitting on right now. Hell, CAS kicked my butt all over the place when I did it to HIM and he **LIKED** me." Dean slouched back with a surly look plastered on his face.

"Dean, you said Hezrial seemed to honestly care about Cas," Sam tried again, "If we have a way to stop the bad guy that's after him, you don't think he'll want to help? I mean, what other choice do we have? How long do you think we can keep running?" Sam leaned forward to catch his brother's full attention. "Dean, Gabriel is running out of time and so are we. We almost got caught back there. Next time we might not be so lucky," he said with emphasis, the memory of his flight through the woods still sharp in his mind. The fear he'd felt while trapped in the pipe with Legion standing just above him wasn't something he could explain to Dean but he knew they wouldn't stand a chance if they didn't find a way to take Legion out of the picture once and for all.

Dean grumbled under his breath. He hated it when Sam made sense, especially when it meant he would have to do something he really didn't want to. Sadly, he was beginning to think Sam was right. With Gabe missing and Cas barely able to sit upright, much less fly anywhere, they had no one they could turn to who could get them the soil from holy ground. Hezrial had seemed like a nice enough guy right up till he tried to take Castiel away but worry gnawed at Dean that he wouldn't be able to keep the angel at bay a second time and he wasn't willing to consider the option of losing track of their friend until he was back to normal. Running from town to town aimlessly in the hopes that the demons wouldn't find them wasn't exactly a plan either though and Sam was irritatingly right when he said Gabriel was running out of time. Even then, the brothers couldn't be sure the archangel hadn't already been turned into holy grout but they had to keep hoping. Dean rubbed at his temples and wished silently for some other option to present itself but when no meteors struck him to end his misery and no magical solution popped up, he cussed quietly and turned his eyes skyward. _Screw you, God. Screw you sideways and running_, he thought bitterly toward the heavens. "Alright, **fine**. I'll try to call him again. You keep Cas here and paint a sigil near you. If he shows up and gets stupid, I wanna be able to send his ass right back out the door before he can snatch Cas."

Sam nodded and snapped his laptop closed, slipping up from his chair to go make preparations. Dean looked down at his friend and tried to still the worry he was feeling. His gaze was met by the tiny figure propped up in his lap and the angel flicked his wings once in what Dean had begun to realize was a sort of greeting. He wasn't sure how he was going to protect the infant and he knew the other angel was going to be less than thrilled to see him again but the danger of Legion getting to Castiel was a more terrifying concept than anything Hezrial might do and Dean knew he'd gladly risk the possibility of a beating if it meant keeping his friend safe. He watched as Castiel wrapped tiny fingers around one of his own and pulled the hand to his chest where the infant pressed his cheek against it. In the background Dean could hear Sam getting everything ready and a small part of him worried that this was the last time he'd get to see the child if Hezrial had his way.

Finally, and with great reluctance, he handed the angel over to his brother and set out to find a safe place to make the call to Heaven. There would be no evangelists in that small community to which Dean could go and request an audience so he was forced to make things up as he went. He headed for the tiny one room church he could see in the distance, opting to just leave the Impala where she sat since it wouldn't take long for him to walk the short distance. He wasn't sure if this would work but he figured that a simple prayer might be a good place to start. He wandered into the cool interior of the church and made his way to the little altar crouched at the opposite end. His only company was a priest with hair long since silvered with age who nodded politely at him when he entered. Dean made his way down to the first pew and slid into the seat. He looked around carefully to make sure no one was watching before finally looking up at the ceiling of the church. It made him feel a little less silly to at least be talking in the general direction of Heaven rather than just spouting out words to the air around him. "Uh…hi," he began lamely, uncertain of how to proceed. "It's me…Dean. But you already knew that…" He paused and shook his head. Great, now all of Heaven was going to think he wasn't just a jerk, he was also an idiot. "Look, about that whole sigil thing, you're not gonna take that personal, right? I mean, come on. You threatened to kill me, I sent you back to…ok, I don't really know where that sends you but let's just call it even, alright?"

Dean glanced around again before continuing. "I need your help, ok?" he said as humbly as he could manage. "**Cas** needs your help. We know how to stop Legion but we can't do it alone. Please." The church around him remained silent and Dean scanned it over carefully to make sure the angel wasn't hiding in some corner waiting to scare the crap out of him since all of Heaven's messengers seemed to delight in doing just that. There was no sign of the angel though and Dean sighed before looking skyward again. "Hezrial? Hez? Can I call ya Hez? I mean, ya banish someone, ya kinda feel like ya know 'em, right?" He laughed nervously and looked around again before continuing. "Look, I know I'm not your favorite person right now but this isn't about me. It's about Cas and right now he needs you. If you give a _crap_ about your brother then you'll show up and help." The minutes ticked by with no answer and finally Dean rose from the pew in defeat. He was going to have to try a different way of getting Hezrial's attention apparently. He slipped quietly back to the back of the church and slid out into the sunshine of early afternoon, his mind buzzing with ideas on how to convince an angel to come back and have a chat after having banished him painfully to God knew where the last time they met.

He didn't make it more than a few steps before a set of hands latched onto his shirt with an iron grip and wheeled him around, slamming him into the side of the church hard enough to knock the wind from him. When he opened his eyes, it was to stare into the face of the very angel he had been looking for. A burning ferocity lit those brown orbs as they seared into Dean's own and he managed a lame smile as he felt the grip on his clothes tighten. "Oh hi," he said as brightly as he could manage, "I guess you got my message."


	18. Chapter 18: Family Ties

**A/N:** Ok, so yeah, this is a longer chapter just because I wanted to get this ball rolling and didn't think it worked too well if I broke this up. Hope you all enjoy.

To say that Hezrial was pissed would have been a massive understatement, not that Dean could really bring himself to blame the angel. He had never been banished from anywhere himself, at least not without a bouncer and a lot of alcohol involved, but he was pretty sure it had to hurt like hell since every angel he'd ever seen it used on had screamed in agony. He put on as much of a smile as he could manage and glanced down to where his feet were dangling a good four inches off the ground. Hezrial's grip hadn't loosened even a fraction and he remained only a scant few inches from Dean, a scowl etched across his features that morphed his boyish face into something far older and angrier.

"Dean Winchester," the angel ground out, "your arrogance is astounding."

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Dean said lightheartedly as he swallowed the lump in his throat. He wasn't sure how powerful the heavenly being in front of him was but if the immovable grip pinning him to the wall was any indication, then the ass was whipping he was about to receive was truly going to suck.

"You _dare_ to call to me again after what you have _done_?" Hezrial's eyes narrowed dangerously and in that moment Dean felt a little thrill of fear race down his back. He really needed to start picking fights with creatures not capable of bending time. Or, for that matter, bending _him_ into any random number of impossible shapes. Unfortunately life just didn't seem to work out that way for him and he wasn't about to back down now when Castiel needed him most.

"Look, you don't like me. I get that. You wanna kick my ass? Fine. But right now Cas is in a whole _world_ of trouble so let's hold off on your bruised ego till AFTER he's safe, ok?" Dean asked forcefully. That seemed to get Hezrial's attention and the stranglehold on his shirt loosened enough to let him slide down the wall.

"You will take me to Castiel," the angel ordered sharply as he released Dean's shirt at last. It was clear enough that this wasn't a request and Dean had no intention of arguing as his feet finally hit the ground again. At least for the moment, it looked like he had escaped his intended punishment and if he could get Hezrial back to the hotel then at least he would have Sam's help should things get out of hand.

"Yeah, it's nice to see you again too," he muttered as he stepped around the other man and headed back across the weathered street toward the hotel. He knew Sam would be waiting for them to return and he only hoped they wouldn't need to make use of the sigil painted hastily onto the wall above his brother's bed. Behind him, Dean could almost _feel_ the angel's eyes boring into his back and he half wondered if Hezrial still thought he was worth all the trouble Cas had gone through on his behalf. The angel's opinion didn't matter all that much of course, as long as he was willing to help. The only ones who mattered right then were currently waiting for Dean on the other side of their motel door and a familiar pit of dread opened up in the hunter's stomach as he slid the key into the lock. It was now or never and he could only wait and see if Hezrial would prove as trustworthy and decent as Sam was hoping for. He wasn't holding his breath.

Dean stepped into the room to find Sam exactly where he'd left him with Castiel perched in his lap. The angel was already staring intently in his direction and he wondered if Cas could sense his own kind the same way he could sense the presence of demons. His suspicions were confirmed when Hezrial slid into the room behind him and Castiel flicked his wings excitedly. Sam didn't seem quite as eager to see the newcomer though and he wrapped a protective arm around the infant to shield him as much as was possible from his potential kidnapper. Dean could see his brother tense and the hand he was hovering over the sigil inched closer to it when Hezrial took a few quick steps toward them. The angel's eyes flicked to the blood smeared wall and then down at his brother again and for a minute, Dean almost felt bad for putting the guy in that situation. Hezrial looked genuinely concerned about the tiny figure Sam was cradling and his form went rigid when he realized he wasn't going to be able to get close to him.

"That's right, princess," Dean said from behind him, "We just wanna talk but if you try anything stupid, we'll send your ass on another fun filled trip to nowhere." He moved to place himself between his brother and the angel but when he met Hezrial's eyes again, he was surprised to see a hint of amusement there. "Somethin' funny?" Dean glanced back at Sam who looked just as confused and concerned as he was.

Hezrial raised one eyebrow at him and for the life of him, Dean could swear the angel was fighting down a smile. "You were correct, Dean Winchester. You are not the smart one."

Dean ruffled up at the comment. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Castiel is also an angel, Dean," Hezrial said. His amusement was clear in his voice now and behind him Dean could hear Sam's hand drop back to his lap. He looked back to see his brother thump his head back against the wall in frustration.

Noting Dean's confusion, Sam elaborated. "If I use the _angel banishing sigil_ then I banish ALL the angels in the room, Dean."

Dean could have kicked himself. He swore loudly and pulled the colt from his waistband, leveling it at the angel's head. Hezrial had just become a much bigger threat since they no longer had a way to fend him off should he decide to take Cas with him. Dean's mind raced as he tried to think of a way out of their sudden predicament. "I TOLD you this was a crap idea," he growled at Sam.

"_Thanks_, Dean. That helpful," Sam grumbled as he pulled Castiel up into a protective embrace and shied away from the other angel. Hezrial had made no move yet to take the infant from them though. He looked at each of them in turn with a forlorn expression that said he wasn't overly happy about what he was about to do and Dean hoped for a moment that he'd change his mind.

"It's obvious you care about him," the angel said softly, "I can see that. I understand that you think you are doing what is best for him but you must understand that you are wrong. The host can protect him. You said yourself that he is in danger. Let me take him. Let me _help_ him." Hezrial took a step forward, his arms out to the side in a show of non-aggression, and Castiel perked up in Sam's arms. He reached out toward the other angel, making the same grabbing motions with his tiny hands that he'd done toward Dean on multiple occasions, and for some reason he didn't care to think about that bothered the hunter. "Dean," Hezrial continued in the sort of voice one usually reserved for spooked animals, "please don't make me _take_ him."

Dean's fingers instantly turned knuckle-white on the grip of the colt. He wasn't sure if it would work on an angel or not but he was perfectly willing to try. Every fiber of him had reared up angrily at the idea of Castiel being forcibly stolen from them and he tensed visibly, his jaw setting into a grim hard line. "You try and I'll kill you, you sunnuva bitch," he snarled through gritted teeth.

Hezrial seemed to realize that his words hadn't had the intended affect and his mouth twitched into a slight frown. He stared long and hard at where Castiel was still silently reaching for him before taking a single step back. "Why did you call me here if not to take him then?" he asked. He seemed to have calmed considerably from the initial meeting at the church and Dean could only assume it was because he knew he could take Cas at any time without the Winchesters being able to do much about it.

"There's a demon called Legion after us," Sam spoke up, "We think Belial sent him to get Cas and we need your help to fight him." Hezrial cocked his head slightly and Sam took it as a gesture to continue. "We know we can't send him back to Hell but we can at least trap him. We just need to get dirt from a grave in Syria. Will you help us?"

The angel cast his eyes down as he mulled over the request. "Once I take Castiel from your care, you should no longer be under threat from the demon," he said matter-of-factly, "but I am not above being willing to aid you this once." He looked pointedly from Dean to Sam. "**If** you give me my brother quietly and without further issue." The look on Dean's face was clear enough answer and Hezrial sighed through his nose. "I am being more than generous. He will come with me either way. I am offering to help you when we both know I don't have to."

"Yeah well screw you AND your help," Dean snapped. He knew he didn't stand much chance of winning this fight but he couldn't bring himself to just let someone he barely knew take Castiel out of his sight when his friend was so vulnerable. He'd fought against all of Heaven before when they'd tried to make him Michael's meatsuit so he wasn't about to roll over for a single angel that easily.

Sam on the other hand was at least trying to be more diplomatic about it all. "Please," he said with what Dean was sure were the biggest puppy dog eyes he'd ever seen, "we all want to help Cas, ok? Taking him off somewhere when we don't even know what's happening yet might be just as dangerous as letting us keep him. If there _is_ an angel out there that did this to him, then how are you going to keep him safe? We don't even know what happened yet. Dean and I are hidden from both angels and demons yet Legion keeps finding us somehow. How long do you think it's going to take for him to find Cas if we aren't hiding him anymore?"

Hezrial's frown deepened. "As I explained to your brother, there is no angel in Heaven right now who would have the power to change Castiel in this way. He is safer there than here with you." The angel shook his head and sighed quietly. "I wish it did not have to be this way." In the next instant, Dean found himself suddenly unable to move. His muscles locked in place save for his eyes which darted to his brother to see if Sam had also been affected. The younger Winchester was standing just as rigidly and a muscle twitching in his throat was the only indication that he was struggling to move even as Hezrial stepped forward. "I am genuinely sorry," the angel said before plucking Castiel from Sam's arms. He cast a rather adoring look down at the infant who pawed with curiosity at the aquiline nose of the man holding him.

Dean was screaming inside as he struggled to pull the trigger on the colt but it came out as little more than a strangled grunt of frustration. He wanted to kill the bastard, wanted to yell, wanted to beg; anything to keep the angel from disappearing with his friend without even letting them say a proper goodbye. He found himself completely immobile though and unable to do much more than watch helplessly as Hezrial turned for the door. Dean grunted again as he strained with every muscle in his body to stop what was happening. Castiel turned to look at him suddenly as if the infant could sense his distress and he reached out for Dean with the high nasal whine he used when he wanted to be held. The sound almost broke the hunter's heart. He couldn't move to take Cas back, couldn't do anything to reclaim him and he decided he would have much preferred any physical beating over this.

"Den!" Castiel called out. The angel carrying him paused at the door and turned to look back at the person his tiny cargo was struggling to get to. The infant's wings were fluttering quickly with the effort of trying to reach Dean and he let out an unhappy noise as his hands opened and closed. Hezrial tried to soothe him by speaking in hushed whispers but the infant was having none of it and gave the man holding him an imploring look before turning once more for the hunter. Hezrial cast his eyes between the two of them, taking in the struggle on Dean's face as well as the desperate plaintive noises the child was making, and after a long moment he seemed to make a decision that he didn't entirely appear to be happy about. He shook his head and sighed before making his way back over to Sam and Dean where he plucked the colt from the latter's hand and tossed it onto the bed.

Castiel was still squirming in the angel's arms as Hezrial leveled a stare at both Winchesters and in the next moment Dean found himself able to move again. The first thing he did with his regained freedom was to punch Hezrial square in the face. It hurt like hell and Dean snatched his throbbing hand back to his chest but the angel didn't seem terribly offended, perhaps because the blow hadn't so much as knocked a hair out of place. Dean would have hit him again just for that if he didn't know full well it would only result in his other hand hurting too. In the next moment he found that he had a better use for his arms though as Hezrial calmly handed the infant over to him without a fuss. Dean snatched Castiel to his chest and took a few steps back in case the other angel changed his mind. The bundle in his arms wriggled happily up to his favorite spot and settled down quietly now that he could latch onto Dean's shirt again. Hezrial watched the whole exchange with a bemused if exasperated expression. "I am not without mercy," he said softly, "It is obvious that it distresses my brother to be so far from you. I would be doing him no kindness to put him through that."

"Thank you," Sam said as he stepped up to brush reassuringly over Castiel's head. Dean was still glaring daggers at the older angel though. He wasn't as willing to just forgive and he certainly wasn't going to thank the bastard for doing the right thing. Part of him was still convinced this was a trick and that Hezrial was going to snatch Cas away again at any moment. His apprehension eased however as Hezrial shot him a small lopsided smile.

"You are remarkable men to have earned such love and loyalty from my brother," the angel said, "but I still contend that you cannot protect him on your own so I must insist that you allow me to mark you that I might locate you and check in periodically to ensure my brother is in good health."

"You wanna WHAT?" Dean snapped. He wasn't sure what the angel meant by 'marking' him but he was positive he didn't want to find out as his mind ran the gamut from having more sigils carved into his body to much less _pleasant_ methods. Additionally, the last thing he wanted was for this whack job to be able to hover over his bed at night while he was sleeping.

"Uh..That's fine. Thank you," Sam managed far more politely. He wasn't terribly thrilled with the idea either but it was better than having Castiel taken from them and he couldn't argue the usefulness of having an extra angel on standby.

"It is settled then," Hezrial announced. He stepped forward and Dean instinctively flinched back as the angel reached for him. Two fingers poked into his side and there was a spark of searing pain that faded just as quickly. Beside him Dean could see Sam wince as well but they seemed none the worse for wear as the angel stepped back again.

"Lemme guess, you just added your own personal tag?" Dean grumbled. "I swear to God if you people don't stop chiseling away at my bones, I'm not gonna have any ribs LEFT."

Hezrial was utterly unfazed. "My brother hid you from our eyes through the use of the enochian sigils he inscribed. I simply added an addendum to allow me to find you. I will remove it once my brother is back to normal."

"Oh, that's great. I'm your personal freakin' etch-a-sketch. That's just fantastic," Dean said grumpily but Hezrial either didn't notice his surly tone or simply didn't care. He calmly turned and began heading for the door again.

"Uh, don't you want to know what dirt we were asking for?" Sam called after him.

Hezrial paused at the doorway and looked back at them. "I know the demon you speak of and I know what earth will keep him at bay. I will go fetch the things you will need to defend yourselves. You will remain here until my return." Before Dean or Sam could even argue the point the angel was gone in a gust of wind and the rustle of feathers.

Dean scowled at the spot where the angel had been only a moment before. He was still irritated over the attempt to take Cas away and he couldn't get the image out of his head of the infant struggling to get back to him. He turned to find Sam giving him a sympathetic look and he realized that he had curled defensively around his young friend without even thinking about it. He straightened up and shot his brother a look that dared him to make a comment but Sam merely gave him a sad smile and then started packing their bags so they could leave as soon as Hezrial returned. Dean flopped down onto the end of his bed and gently rubbed at the space between the child's small wings, eliciting a contented grunt from somewhere just over his left shoulder. "God, I need a beer," he said to no one in particular. He breathed out a little of the tension that had been riding his shoulders, satisfied at least for the moment that no one was going to take Castiel away.

Sam made his way over and leaned against the squat dresser that huddled against the opposite wall. "If you wanna go get us some, I'll hold Cas till you get back." He let out a small humorless chuckle. "After that, I think I could use one too."

Dean quirked a grin at his brother and tried to decide if it was worth relinquishing his hold on the angel in favor of getting a six pack from the convenience store just up the block. Hezrial was no longer a threat to them and Sam had already proven he was more than capable of protecting Castiel so in the end Dean decided he and his brother had more than earned the right to a cold one and an afternoon of watching old football games on the tiny television their room sported. He handed Cas over and was relieved to see that his friend was perfectly ok with trading Winchesters so long as he was curled up against one of them and he watched with amusement as the little angel butted his forehead against Sam's cheek in a clumsy sort of hug, his chubby arms wrapping around the hunter's neck. Sam chuckled and his face brightened considerably from the worried brooding he'd been doing earlier.

Satisfied that he'd left Castiel in more than capable hands, Dean wandered down the sidewalk toward the garish neon lights marking the 24 hour store up ahead. As he walked, his mind turned back to a time when Sam was as young as Castiel appeared to be now. He could remember his little brother giggling up at him from his crib, his bright eyes crinkled up with joy as Dean dangled some toy or another over him. He could still recall how happy he'd been when his mother and father had brought Sam home. He was a big brother. His father had sat him down and told him how serious and important a task it was to be someones' older sibling and that Sam would look up to him for advice and guidance. He would need to protect him, to keep him out of trouble and sometimes to get him into too. Dean smiled as he walked, memories filing in one by one like a slideshow, recalling adventures playing in various hotels, going to Sam's soccer games, pretending to drive the Impala while Sam rattled off commands more akin to someone flying a spaceship than driving a car. By the time he reached his destination, Dean's mood had greatly improved and he could think of nothing better than sitting back and enjoying a good game and a cold brew with his little brother.

He grabbed up a six pack and even felt up to flirting casually with the pretty little thing behind the counter. He left with her number in his pocket and her wink still fresh in his mind even though he knew he wouldn't get the opportunity to do much with either. Sometimes the chase was worth more than the destination. With that pleasant thought in mind, Dean popped open the door to the motel and stepped inside. The smell of soil hit him squarely in the face with such power that he gagged on it at first. The case of beer hit the ground but he didn't even register the sound of the shattering glass over the high terrified cry of Castiel from within the room. Dean's heart slammed into the bottom of his stomach as he took in the sight of Sam's still form laying on the floor and figure standing over him with Castiel cowering in its grip. Brilliant green eyes met his own and the demon let out a low growl. Long thin fingers tipped with dirt caked, ragged nails curled in a vice-like grip around Castiel's arm while the other bony hand curled around to support the infant's weight. Cas's wings were plastered tight to his body and he was curling himself into as small a ball as he could manage, his wide terrified eyes peering out over the creature's hand. Dean drew his weapon and lunged for the monster but he didn't make it more than a few steps inside before something slammed against the back of his head. His body hit the ground and he barely managed to roll onto his back as he fought to stay conscious. Laying on the carpet with the blackness closing in around the edges of his vision, he looked up to see another demon standing just behind the door with a heavy cudgel in one hand and Legion towering over him with Castiel still in its grip. The infant let out a high frightened squeak and curled in farther on himself.

"Den!"


	19. Chapter 19: Pleased to Meet You

**A/N**: Ok, so this chapter doesn't have any Cas in it. Sorry guys, I know most of you are here for the Cas but I started writing this whole story with a plot in mind and I need to get it out onto paper. This chapter is totally about Sam but fear not for the next chapter is about Dean and Cas. I shall attempt to update again tomorrow. ;) Even if you're patiently waiting for Castiel scenes, I would certainly like feedback on Legion. I tried to make him scary but I don't know if he comes across that way. He freaks me out in my head but it's hard to translate to words.

* * *

_He's falling again. Tumbling through darkness so pitch black that he can't even make out his hands in front of his face. He can't breathe either, there's a terrible pain in his chest that spreads like a fire lit behind his ribcage and he flails helplessly against it. The burning only grows though until he feels like his whole body will burst into flames at any moment. His eyes sting and his stomach lurches from the fall but it doesn't seem to end. He falls for an eternity. He falls until the darkness around him grows as cold as ice and numbs his hands even as his chest sears white hot and he wonders if there's steam rolling off him when the two elements meet against his skin. He isn't sure which he'd rather crawl into, which would be more merciful, but he decides in time that neither is a good option and he's left trapped between them. He feels thin, like fragile paper suspended between a glacier and a volcano and kept alive only by some miracle. He opens his mouth, screams for Dean, but nothing comes out. Or maybe it does but he can't hear it over the rush of wind. Perhaps the darkness simply swallows it. He wishes he could cry but the tears don't come and the heat burns away at him until there's nothing left but a world of pain. He prays to anything that might listen for it all to stop and when it does, he wishes he'd kept his mouth shut. _

_He hits the ground with an impact that shatters stone and he can feel the skitter of tiny pebbles dancing and slicing over his skin as they fly away. Every bone breaks. His organs rupture. He can feel his skin stretch horribly as everything in it is flattened unnaturally by the blow but then it all starts to re-knit itself together again and he is denied the sweet mercy of death. He screams silently as his muscles stitch themselves back together and he utters forth every curse word he's ever heard. Then he makes up new ones. The pain of the healing mingles with the pain of the burning in his chest and he wonders just how much he can take. He doesn't pass out though and finally, at long last, the pain ebbs some. He's left panting and weeping into the dirt beneath him. He's alone. Naked. Scared. Dean can't help him now and as he lays there he begins to realize his brother may have gone through something similar. He doesn't know, Dean never told him, never talked about it. Maybe he should have asked more just so he could know what he was getting himself into. He pushes up onto his knees after what feels like forever but there's only more darkness before his eyes. For a minute, he isn't sure if he's been blinded. _

_Then there's light. It's faint at first, dim in the distance, but as he squints through the pain and the tears, he can see it getting brighter. He stares at it, clings to that bright spot in all the darkness, and reaches out a trembling hand toward it. He says a prayer, says the name of every angel he can think of, and hopes it's someone coming to help him. The light shatters and radiates a million tiny rainbows across the tears still clinging to his lashes as he squints into it. It's so bright it hurts but he can't look away because it's better than the darkness. It's sunshine bundled into too tight a form. He can feel it radiate over his skin but it's not burning him and the pain in his own chest gets lighter as it approaches. He says a name, he think it might be Castiel's, but he still has no voice in this place. The light wavers and then dims leaving only a human form standing in the middle of it. He blinks away the last of the lingering spots before his eyes and stares up into the face of his little brother. Adam. He'd forgotten in his pain that his brother had also fallen and he reaches up a hand for support as he tries to find his feet. _

_When it isn't taken, he looks up again and finds that Adam's face is contorted into an unbridled rage. "Look at what you've done," the young man growls, "Look at what has happened to us now, what you've done to me. This is YOUR fault, Lucifer. I had a fate and you have denied it to me. You have pulled me into your perdition and now we are BOTH punished." The scowl on Adam's face deepens into a look of disappointment and loathing so intense it makes his soul recoil. It leaves him shaking as his younger brother takes a step forward, looms over him in a way that shouldn't be possible…and then a whole new pain starts._

Sam wakes up screaming and straining against the chains around his wrists. It takes him a full five minutes of panicked struggling to realize he isn't back in Hell again. He could almost weep with gratitude though it's an odd feeling considering that he's still shackled hand and foot to a dank brick wall. There isn't much light in the room save for a single bare bulb across the room from him. It's set into the stone next to the only door he can see and he scans around quickly to take in his surroundings. He's alone and he hopes with all his might that Dean didn't get caught too. His mind turns to Castiel and his heart tightens painfully. The last time he'd seen his friend, the infant was clinging to his chest, crying out in terror as Legion approached, and then the world went black. Sam tugged uselessly against the thick bindings that held him to the wall but his aching shoulders were a testament to the fact that they could apparently easily hold all his dead body weight so it he knew he stood little chance of breaking them by sheer force.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the moisture that immediately seeped through his shirt. He took a few long deep breaths as he shoved away the terrifying memory of his time trapped with Michael and tried to just concentrate on getting free and finding Castiel. Sam could only imagine the infant was utterly panicked by then and he didn't want to think about what could have already befallen the little angel. He shuddered at the memory of the demons they had already fought and the hunger he'd seen in their eyes. Crowley had called the child a 'delicacy'. The mental image that accompanied those thoughts made Sam want to vomit. He craned his neck to better examine the thick manacles that were wrapped around each wrist. They had been attached to the wall by a short heavy chain which had been nailed into place and Sam tugged experimentally to see if there was any sign of weakness in the attachments that he could concentrate on to free himself. Sadly they held perfectly firm and he hung his head as he tossed aside his mounting frustration in favor of just trying to think of an alternative way to get free.

Sam's wrists were bloody and raw with his efforts by the time the echo of footsteps reached his ears from the hallway and he paused to watch the door intently. The newcomer stopped just outside the entry and the smell of soil leaked in around the edges leaving Sam with no doubts as to who his visitor was. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he pressed back against the wall as far as he could go but there wasn't any way to escape. The handle squealed with years of disuse and the door groaned as it crept open revealing the horror on the other side. Legion glided in silently with his head tucked so that his eyes were hidden behind the ratty curtain of red hair. He moved with a strange unnatural grace made all the more pronounced by his lanky form and every now and then he would twitch or shudder in a jerky movement so fast it could only be seen as a blur. The scent of damp earth rolled off him in a pungent wave and Sam recoiled from it as far as his chains would allow, his nose scrunching in distaste.

Suddenly the demon was in front of him, mere inches from his face, until all of Sam's field of vision was taken up by those horrible sunken green eyes staring at him from within a dark ring of dead looking flesh. The thing met his gaze and Sam shuddered. Its presence laid a heaviness on the very air as if someone had wrapped the world in damp blankets and the hunter struggled against the feeling of suffocation. The torrent of negative emotions he'd felt back in the tunnel returned full force, crashing over Sam in a wave and he jerked at his chains hard enough to bring a fresh trickle of blood down his forearms. There were so many different emotions warring for control but Sam latched on to the only one he felt might be of some use: anger. His teeth ground together and he glared at his captor. This thing had Castiel and that was what he would use as his point of focus.

"Where is he?" Sam snarled at the demon, "Where's Cas?"

Legion made an ugly rattling noise somewhere in the back of its throat and when it opened its mouth, Sam decided the smell of soil wasn't so bad, at least, not compared to the fetid stench of rotting flesh that wafted up from the grotesque maw. When the demon spoke, it's mouth didn't move, it merely hung open limp and dead and a chorus of voices at least a dozen strong burbled up from somewhere within it. "So much concern for your broken angel. Such loyalty to a being that cannot and does not truly care about you." Every word was a mixture of cries and whispers wrung out from voices that ranged from the high lilt of a little girl to the deep throaty rumble of a fully grown man and every variation in between. Sam swallowed down his revulsion and tried to just concentrate on what the thing was saying. "I should think you would be more concerned about the current state of your own brother over some divine being that will never truly accept you. Perhaps we are more alike than I thought."

"Dean." Sam's heart fell straight through his shoes and he felt his anger ramp up a notch. The thing had Dean. He'd hoped his brother hadn't come back in time, that Legion had simply taken him and Cas and left, but apparently no such luck. Sam shook his head and tried to control the shaking breaths he was taking. "We aren't anything alike. I would never hurt my brother. You killed yours."

The demon snorted and curled its lip to reveal a row of yellowed teeth. "And so shall you." It leaned in and the smell of it grew strong enough to burn Sam's eyes. "Unless you make the choice I did not. Unless you choose to save him."

Sam resisted the urge to close his eyes and pull away. The world felt like it was tipping on its side the closer Legion got to him and his very skin felt like it was crawling. Sam gagged but held down the bile that rose up in his throat. He clung to the words Legion was saying and eyed the demon warily. It was a trick, that much he was sure of, he just needed to find out what the catch was. "Yeah? And how am I supposed to save him? Sell you my soul?" he asked bitterly.

Legion grimaced in a way that Sam could only assume was an attempt at a smile. "No," it whispered in its myriad voices, "all you need do is that which you have done before. Reject divinity. Turn your back on a god that does not care about you or your brother." A single jagged nail was drug down Sam's cheek and as the skin touched his, Sam could hear the sound of a thousand voices screaming somewhere in the back of his head. The finger was clammy and lifeless, devoid of warmth, and he jerked his face away. "You are the vessel of Lucifer. An empty vessel, yes, but still a vessel. You have been touched…tainted…imbued with him. My master needs an angel of great power to free him. You are no angel but you housed one. With a proper sacrifice, it will be enough to break the Great General's cage." The voices dropped to sibilant whispers. "Free him, Sam. Free him and you and your brother will go unharmed. Free him and make the world more pure for he shall lay down upon the lands and cleanse the earth of those who are deserving of punishment."

Sam gritted his teeth and willed the wall behind him to give more so he could put space between him and the overwhelming taint of the thing in front of him. He felt soiled just being that close to it. "Let me guess. The sacrifice? It's Cas, isn't it? You want me to kill him so your boss can go free?" Sam turned his head to glare at the demon. "Go back to Hell."

Legion withdrew slightly and Sam breathed in what little fresh air he could gather. "The angel will die," it said flatly, "that is inevitable. He rebelled against his own brothers. He slew his own blood for the sake of another. He rebelled, just as the Morning Star rebelled, and he will be punished for it as was his kin so long ago."

"Cas didn't rebel against God," Sam said hotly, "he rebelled against the other angels who were trying to end the entire world! He helped save billions of people!"

"Irrelevant." Legion waved the idea away dismissively. "He rebelled. He slew his own kind. He will be punished." The demon spouted the rhetoric with a conviction born of years of repetition.

Sam wondered how many people had been slain by this thing while hearing that. "I'm not helping you kill Cas," he said with matching determination.

"Then you choose the death of your brother instead," Legion said simply, "and he will die at your own hand."

Sam shook his head in denial. "No. Never. You can't make me kill Dean. Even Lucifer couldn't make me kill him."

Legion did smile then and the grotesque sight sent a shiver straight down Sam's spine. "The Morning Star made the mistake of trying to control you," it hissed as it stepped toward him, "I will simply strip your control away and in your madness, you will destroy all that you love." Sam twisted away in vain as Legion reached for him once again but he couldn't move enough to dodge the gnarled hand which slid like oil into his hair. Darkness seeped into his mind and coiled serpent-like around his thoughts. Every horrid thing he'd seen in Hell, every pain he'd suffered, every moment spent at the hands of Michael in his rage were all wrenched forward in bright Technicolor glory and somewhere Sam could hear a tormented high keening. It took him several minutes to realize it was his own voice raised in a scream.


	20. Chapter 20: Awakening

**A/N: **I…I apologize to all of you as writing this part broke my heart a little. Fear not, things should get better for the boys from here (I hope) and I know some of you will be excited by the end of this chapter. ;) Sorry if this isn't my best but I'm a little tired tonight.

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The instant Dean woke up he regretted it. Everything he owned hurt and even muscles he didn't realize he _had_ were aching, eliciting a low groan from him as his body's complaints began to filter in one by one. His head was throbbing in a lovely tempo that would have put Metallica to shame and his throat was on fire. It took him a few minutes to realize it wasn't just a bad hangover. He cracked open his eyes but the view he was afforded was far from comforting and he heavily considered the option of just trying to will himself back into unconsciousness. The room was small and dim, broken up here and there with thick steel support beams that ran from floor to ceiling, and the air was stagnant, reeking of mildew in a way that was vaguely reminiscent of a sewer. Dean wished he didn't have that point of comparison. His life would have been far more charmed if he could've honestly said he didn't know what a sewer smelled like. He blinked through the pain until everything started to slide back into focus but when he tried to move, the reason for his discomfort became immediately apparent.

A thick chain had been bound tightly beneath Dean's chin and it was forcing his head up and back in a way that was distinctly uncomfortable. He peered out of the corner of his eye to find that his hands and arms were pinned in much the same manner, dull gray chains wrapping around them in a set of serpentine loops winding all the way up his arms and disappearing somewhere behind him. One of the steel support beams rested squarely against his spine and its length had been split by a cross bar to which his arms were bound. He couldn't see his legs but he could guess the same chains had been wrapped around them as well since his attempts to move them were also thwarted. "Why the hell don't I ever wake up in a four star hotel?" he grumbled hoarsely. He turned his eyes skyward and aimed his complaint toward the heavens. "Is that really so much to ask? Just ONCE can I be kidnapped by someone not intent on tying me up in their basement?" Dean grunted as he wriggled in vain, hoping to find some give in his restraints that would let him get free. He needed to find Sam, needed to know he was ok since the last image he had of his brother was the young man's limp body sprawled at the feet of the demon, and it gave fuel to his efforts to break loose. He paused however when he heard a soft familiar whine from somewhere just to his right.

Dean shifted as best he could to get a look in that direction and after a few minutes spent rubbing his throat even more raw against the chain he managed to get his head turned. What he saw made his stomach tighten into an unpleasant knot. Resting a few feet away on top of a decrepit old work bench was a small cage made of dark steel but it was what was in the cage that made Dean struggle all the more to get free. Castiel sat curled up against the cold bars, his tiny form wrapped up in a tight ball, and the hunter could see the angel's wings trembling even from that distance. "Cas," he managed to rasp out. The infant instantly perked up at the sound and turned to look at him. Blue eyes wide with fear stared out from between the bars for a moment before a tiny hand shot out in his direction in a desperate bid to close the gap between them.

The angel shifted and whimpered as he tried repeatedly to reach Dean, his hand grasping at nothing more than air as he struggled to grab hold of his caretaker. Dean's heart ached at the sight and he renewed his fight against the chains binding him. "It's ok, Cas," he said between bouts of struggling, "I'm right here. It's ok." His words didn't seem to be helping calm the angel though as Castiel only intensified his efforts, letting out small plaintive cries as he flattened his body against the bars and reached out with both hands. His tiny wings fluttered uselessly in a panicked staccato tapped out against the walls of his prison and Dean worried the infant might actually hurt himself if he didn't stop. After a few minutes though, the angel finally seemed to realize he wasn't going to be able to get to Dean and he settled for simply pressing himself tightly against the bars so that he was as close to the hunter as possible, his pale cheek scrunched up against the cold metal and his whole body curling back into a fetal position. The wings folded down and sealed themselves against his skin, the only points of bright light in the whole room.

Dean groaned in frustration but resisted saying anything else lest it cause Castiel to start flailing about again. He wasn't sure he could handle watching the angel struggle that way a second time though he stared longingly at where the infant was curled up, every fiber of his being wanting to go over there and comfort his friend. He was grateful at least that the child didn't appear to be injured and he wondered where Sam was since the room was devoid of anyone but the two of them. The warnings Crowley had given them played like a fresh recording in Dean's head and he knew without Castiel's influence Sam would be hard pressed to fight off the affects Legion would have on him. He would have to trust in his brother's strength to hold out until Dean could get loose though the thought occurred to him that it might be Sam who would have to rescue _him_ since his efforts at getting free didn't seem to be yielding any results. He wasn't sure how long he'd been struggling, cussing, and insulting the parentage of every item in the room before his battle with the chains was interrupted but he stilled as he heard the door creak open.

The air was instantly permeated with the cloying scent of tilled earth and Dean made a sour face as it assaulted his senses. He heard Castiel shift nervously beside him and the infant let out a long quiet mewling sound as the demon entered the room. Legion ambled across the floor, closing the distance between him and Dean but he pulled up short just a few feet away and turned to look at Cas. Dean stiffened. "So you're Legion, huh?" he asked in a desperate bid to pull the monster's attentions away from the infant, "No offense pal, but you really might wanna try bathing now and then. Seriously. I can smell you from like a mile away." Legion turned slowly to look at him and Dean offered him a mocking smile. The demon shuffled closer and the scent of him wafted over the hunter causing him to cough and roll his head away as far as he could. "Jeez, I've heard of bad BO, dude, but DAMN." When Dean opened his eyes again it was to stare straight into the face of the monster and he quirked an eyebrow at it as he shrunk back. "Hey, whoa, little close there. You're cute and all but I don't usually kiss on the first date," he quipped.

Legion sneered at him but said nothing in response before wheeling back toward Castiel. Dean's attempts to keep the creature's attentions on himself had apparently failed and he felt the knot in his stomach tighten as the demon approached his young friend. He could hear the angel scoot to the opposite side of his cage now that the demon was between them and the wings started up their terrified fluttering again. "You stay the hell away from him," Dean said through clenched teeth but Legion didn't seem to even hear him as the monster knelt down to peer into the cage. The hunter wrenched on his restraints and battled to gain even an inch of leeway but he only succeeded in pulling something in his left shoulder and he let out an infuriated growl.

Castiel whimpered and scrambled to get as far from the demon as he could but the cage afforded him little room to move and it left him cowering in the back corner, his face turned away from the weight of Legion's stare. "Fascinating, isn't it?" the thing rejoiced in its multi-layered voice, "Such a human display of emotion. His vessel makes him weak." Legion let out a vile purr, the nails of one hand drawing across the top of the bars and causing a soft metallic scratching that sent chills down Dean's spine. "_You_ make him weak." The demon glanced over his shoulder at where his prisoner was still struggling in vain. "He killed his brothers for you. Now he will die for it."

Dean felt a swell of guilt hit him full force though he wasn't certain if it was simply a side effect of Legion's presence or not. Still, he couldn't help thinking about how much Cas had risked for him, what he'd done for both of the Winchesters when he didn't have to, and it only made him feel worse that he wasn't able do anything to help the angel now. He hated feeling that helpless, hated knowing that once again someone he cared about was in trouble and he couldn't save them. His heart threatened to climb right out of his throat as he watched the infant coil into a tighter ball. _NO._ He wouldn't fail this time. He couldn't let this _thing_ hurt his friend, not when Cas was depending on him. "The hell he will, you sunnuva bitch," Dean said with renewed ferocity, "cause Sam and I are gonna send you back to your boss in pieces. We're _Winchesters_. We wipe our _ass_ with scarier things than you. See the problem with all you freaks is that you keep thinking you're better than us. And Sam and I, we're just gonna keep on proving you wrong. We've sent bigger, badder, and meaner things than you packin', pal, so _bring it._" The words were meant to rile his captor in the hope that he could at least buy Cas some time. He wasn't sure how much good it would do but every minute Legion was distracted by him was one more minute Sam had to come to the rescue.

The demon rose back to its full height and opened its mouth impossibly wide, emitting a cacophony of screeches and wails that echoed off the walls around them. Dean realized with horror that he'd heard that sound before during his time in Hell. It was the sound of the tormented souls of the damned lifted in a single chorus of pain and torment only this time it was laced with pure venomous hate and directed solely at him. He swallowed down his revulsion and waited for the inevitable blow he was sure would follow it but the voices simply died off one by one until a heavy silence fell upon the room like a pall, broken only by Dean's own ragged breathing. Castiel had gone utterly stiff and immobile at the sound of the scream but at least he was being ignored by the demon for the moment. _Lucky him,_ Dean thought dryly as Legion took a few jerky steps in his direction. "You live only because your brother has spared you," it hissed at him. A foul laugh rattled up from its chest. "You live because the angel will die by _his_ hand."

Dean snorted in disbelief and all but laughed in the thing's face. "Yeah. Good one. Sam isn't gonna kill Cas."

"You underestimate his love for you," Legion retorted. He turned back to Castiel's cage and scraped his fingers over the lock which rusted and fell away at his touch. The angel let out a frightened squeak as the demon's fingers closed over his arm and dragged him bodily from the tiny prison. Dean snarled and jerked against his chains, infuriated as he watched Legion lift the struggling child and pin him against his chest beneath one sinewy arm. Cas huffed out a few quick breaths as if he were about to cry and pushed in vain at the creature holding him but he went rigid as the demon cradled a gnarled hand around the back of his head. The long spindly fingers tangled in the angel's locks and he whimpered pitifully as Legion gently petted his hair.

"I'm gonna kill you slowly," Dean spat, his whole body trembling with impotent fury, "You won't be going back to Hell. I don't give a damn _what_ the lore says. You're **dead**." Legion merely curled a lip at him in a mockery of a smile and turned his back. "You hear me?" he shouted at the demon's retreating form and as the door slid shut sealing him away from Castiel, Dean screamed in frustration. He all but sobbed as he yanked at the chains keeping him from pursuing his friend and he lost track of time as he pulled, writhed, and twisted in anguish, his mind replaying the infant angel's frightened cries over and over. He finally collapsed against the pillar at his back, drawing in ragged harsh breaths, and willed someone to help Cas even if it wasn't him. His silent prayer was interrupted by the door opening once more and he glared as he waited for his tormentor to return. The figure that stepped inside was far from who he expected though and he blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't losing his mind.

Hezrial carefully closed the door behind him and rushed across the room to Dean's side. He looked over the chains hurriedly and then ducked around somewhere behind the hunter and out of view. "Where the hell have you _been_?" Dean snapped, "What was all that 'marking' crap about if it takes you this freakin' long to find us? What, did you stop for _dinner_ first?" Perhaps he should have been grateful but instead he only felt irritated that the angel had taken so long to locate them when he'd specifically inscribed their very ribs just to that purpose.

Hezrial's mellow voice wafted up from somewhere behind Dean's right shoulder accompanied by the rattle of chains as he worked to free the young man. "I did not realize you were all in danger until after my return. I found your room empty and recognized the signs of Legion. I would have arrived faster but the building you are in is marked by a great deal of sigils designed to weaken celestials. Strangely there were no warding ones so I was still able to get in but my powers are greatly dampened and I had to resort to subterfuge to find you."

The tightness around Dean's throat fell away and he coughed roughly as he gulped down lungfuls of air. The rest of the chains dropped in rapid succession and Dean stumbled away from the support beam as the last of them clattered to the floor. "Yeah, well that's just freakin' great. While you were out there playin' ninja, that bastard Legion took Cas." He didn't wait to hear the angel's rebuttal and instead bolted for the door. He had to find both Sam and Cas before it was too late. Something about the way Legion had talked about his brother, the way he inferred that Sam had been forced to choose between him and Cas, made him worry as to what extent the other young man would go to under the demon's influence. He didn't want to believe that Sam was capable of harming the tiny angel in their care but he'd watched his brother slaughter the demons in the warehouse with a rabid ferocity he had never thought possible and he couldn't entirely put the concern out of his mind about what affect the demon's close proximity might be having. Legion had taken Castiel none the less and Dean only hoped he wouldn't be too late to save him, regardless of who he needed to be saved from.

Hezrial tore down the hall after him, struggling to keep up with Dean's frantic pace as he rushed through long narrow hallways in his search. The structure they were being kept in appeared to have once been used as an underground storehouse for some long forgotten railway but it had fallen into disuse and murky puddles of standing water lay scattered about the dirt floors from where moisture had seeped in through the cracks in the ceiling. Dean splashed through them heedless as he ran, intent only on following the heady scent of soil back to its source. His momentum was halted when Hezrial latched onto his arm and yanked him to a stop. Dean almost turned and punched him but he hesitated at the look on the angel's face. "My brother is near," he said in a hushed whisper before tucking around Dean and heading for a set of double doors down a side hallway.

Dean turned back to where he had been heading originally but it was hard to follow the smell of soil since it seemed to permeate everything around them. He opted to trust Hezrial's feelings and followed the angel silently to the doors. He took up one side of the door the way he always would with Sam but his current companion apparently hadn't gotten the memo and certainly had no experience with how to enter a room safely because he cast Dean a quizzical look before simply tossing the doors wide open. Dean resisted the urge to slap a palm to his forehead. "Jackass," he muttered. He didn't have time to stop the angel before Hezrial strode purposefully into the room and when Dean heard the other angel gasp in shock, he braced himself for the worst and whipped around the door frame and into the room. His weapon lowered as he too caught sight of what had elicited such a reaction from his companion.

There, in the center of the room, trapped within a circle of flames, was a large metal frame in the shape of an odd star with seven points and bound hand and foot to that star was a single person. Blood spattered the remnants of the man's tattered clothes and his skin was a map of bruises and cuts that littered almost every inch of visible skin. As they entered, he managed to barely raise his head and cast them a weak but amused smile. "Well if it isn't the cavalry. Tell me at least one of you chuckleheads brought an extinguisher," Gabriel said with a grin.


	21. Chapter 21: The Boys Are Back in Town

**A/N:** *Sigh* Sorry this is so late. I tried again and again to write this chapter and it just WASN'T coming. I can usually play the whole scene out in my head and then write down what I see but for some reason, while Dean was being cooperative, Gabe just wanted to dance manically and say things with a silly French accent so that wasn't helping. It took me a few days to finally get Gabe to cooperate and I still don't know if this is in keeping enough with his character. Please let me know so I can correct if needed. :/ I hope you enjoy it regardless.

* * *

For a few seconds Dean wasn't quite sure what to say as he stared at the once mighty angel now hanging like a limp ragdoll from the ropes binding him. Gabriel was tethered hand and foot with twine that had obviously been soaked in something unpleasant and the smell of it wafted throughout the room with a bitter tang that made Dean's nose burn. The strands were all but black and the firelight reflected across them in a sticky crimson shine. Dean grimaced as he took in the awkward way the angel was dangling, as if all his strength were simply gone, though he couldn't be sure if that was from the prison he was in or the days of abuse at Legion's hands. The fact that the angel should have easily been able to break the flimsy bonds trapping him though hinted that whatever they were coated in was the likely culprit for Gabriel's current weakness. "Excuse the expression, but you look like _hell,_" Dean said with a note of sympathy.

Gabriel shot him a displeased look. "Gee, THANKS, Dean. I'll tell you what, how about we trade places and YOU hang up here for a few days to see how YOU look." Hezrial cut off whatever reply Dean might have had as he rushed forward and began looking about frantically for a way to stamp out the flames keeping him from his brother, his frustration showing clearly in the deep frown adorning his face when no obvious solution presented itself.

"Hez," Dean said as he stepped up to the fire, "Go see if you can find something to put this out or at least give us a way across. I'll get Mr. _Sunshine_ here down." He motioned toward the other angel who shot him a less than polite gesture with what little strength remained in his fingers. Hezrial looked torn for a moment as he glanced between where his brother was still dangling and the hunter telling him to leave but he seemed at last to decide on trusting Dean and fled the room at top speed without another word. Dean turned back to find Gabriel grinning at him. "What?" he said mistrustfully.

"You got a plan for getting me down, right? Well, don't leave me _hanging_," Gabriel said cheerfully. The archangel smiled even wider, obviously far too amused by his own joke as Dean groaned and slapped his forehead.

"Dude, you make ONE more bad pun like that and I will LEAVE your ass here," the hunter growled as he took a few steps back.

"Can ya blame me?" Gabriel retorted, "I've been stuck in here by myself for the last five days with no one else to talk to. And let me tell you, as an angel, that counting bricks to pass time thing doesn't work either. I already knew how many ounces of mortar were used in building this room the instant I woke up. Being powerful has its drawbacks. I got so bored I started I started having conversations with a _roach_." The angel glanced over at one of the walls, presumably looking in the direction his temporary companion usually came from. "I call him 'Skippy'," he said cheerfully.

Dean stopped and shot the archangel a look that said he seriously doubted the being's sanity before going back to what he was doing with a shake of his head. He squinted as he gauged the distance and then took a running leap over the flames, letting out a hiss when he felt the heat of them sear along his backside upon landing. He scrambled a few steps forward and came face to face with one terribly entertained angel that was trying and failing to stifle down a snicker. "Well it's a good thing I'm not counting on you for gracefulness," Gabriel said with open sarcasm.

Dean glared at him and yanked his knife free from his belt. He wasn't sure what the substance on the ropes was but he _was_ sure he didn't want to touch it. "Do you EVER shut up?" he snarled as he cut through the first set pinning Gabriel's right wrist to the iron star.

"Oh right," the angel quipped, "This from the guy that could make snarkiness an Olympic sport. HEY! OW!" Gabriel flinched as Dean 'accidentally' nicked him. The hunter threw a measured smile at the other man and promptly ignored the scowl he was rewarded with. In the next instant the twine gave way and Gabriel's arm flopped uselessly to his side, his whole body sagging at an even more awkward angle now that his bindings were uneven. "Dean, I swear if you cut loose my other hand before you free my legs, I will smite the crap out of you first chance I get." Gabriel managed to peer up at the hunter in time to see a thoughtful look pass over his face.

"That WOULD be pretty freakin' hilarious," Dean said with far too much enthusiasm. The glare that was shot in his direction from the angel at his mercy reminded him that it was a temporary situation at best and that the repercussions of his actions wouldn't be worth it in the end…even if it _would_ be amusing to see an angel faceplant. He sighed and let the idea go in favor of cutting free one of Gabriel's legs instead. In short order he managed to sever all of the bindings and the angel collapsed against his shoulder in a crumpled pile. Despite being smaller than Dean, Gabe was surprisingly heavy and the hunter staggered a few steps back as he worked to stabilize his friend. The flames licked at his back but he steadfastly ignored them as he hefted the smaller man up and slid one arm across his shoulders for support. For once, Gabe didn't say anything and simply shot him a small but grateful smile.

The silence didn't last long though. "So are you stupid enough to have come here alone or is Sammy-boy out looking for a holy water vending machine at the moment?" Gabriel said as he staggered unevenly against Dean's hip.

"I don't know where he is," the hunter admitted and his worry must have shown through pretty clearly in his voice since the angel immediately lifted his head to look at him. He met Gabriel's questioning stare and shrugged. "Legion caught us by surprise. When I woke up, Sam wasn't with me anymore. I don't know where he was taken but we gotta find him. And Cas too." He felt the angel stiffen at his side.

"He's got my little bro?" Gabriel asked in a quiet voice tinged with something strained and dangerous before he suddenly erupted. "WHAT THE _HELL_, DEAN?" He lunged toward the ring of fire with jerky movements but the farther he got from the ropes and the star he'd been bound with, the more stable he seemed to become and Dean helped lead him right to the edge. "I THOUGHT you two dipsticks couldn't POSSIBLY screw up taking care of him! I thought if there was anyone who would protect him, it would be _you two_. Boy was _I_ wrong."

"HEY," Dean snapped angrily, "we DID take care of him, alright? What the hell were we supposed to do against LEGION? You know, that demon that kicked _your_ ass?"

"Legion wasn't the one that kidnapped me, genius," Gabriel said with a surprising amount of bitterness. Before he could elaborate further though Hezrial raced back into the room carting what looked like a weathered old door with him. He dropped the water stained wood onto the flames, effectively creating a bridge over the fire and watched anxiously as Dean all but dragged Gabriel across it. As soon as the two cleared the flames, Hezrial was at his brother's side, carefully tending to his wounds and offering support where he could. Dean didn't bother to ask where he got the door from.

"Knock it off, knucklehead, I'm not DYING," Gabriel said, pushing the fretting angel away. Hezrial didn't seem offended by the rejection and instead complied by falling into step beside them as the archangel shuffled farther away from the flames and toward the open door. Dean was about to question him on what he'd meant by his earlier statement when he was interrupted by the arrival of a small handful of demons suddenly filling the only exit, confident smiles stretching over their faces. Hezrial visibly bristled and Dean reached for his gun only to discover it wasn't there. He cussed under his breath as he realized it had probably been left on the hotel floor and his only defense was the knife in his hand. Dean looked down at Gabe.

"Any suggestions?" he said dryly.

The archangel smiled sheepishly up at him. "Uh, try not to die?" he offered.

"Gee, thanks," Dean snapped bitterly. Hezrial stepped forward, trying to place himself as much as possible between the monsters they now faced and the vulnerable men behind him. A short silver blade slid into his hand from thin air and he curled his fingers around it tightly as he waited for the first strike. It didn't take long and despite his current lack of heavenly power, Dean discovered the young angel was far from helpless. The first demon was dispatched relatively quickly and Hezrial seemed to be handling the second fairly well but the tables turned when a third joined in the fray, bringing the young man to his knees with a sharp blow to the back. Dean shifted Gabriel and lowered him to the floor where the archangel managed to prop himself up on his knees. The hunter turned and threw himself into the fray, yanking one of the demons off the young angel he had been choking. Dean held his own for a few brief minutes but with an ordinary knife as his only weapon it didn't take long for the demon he was struggling with to gain the upper hand. His back slammed into the corner of the doorway, sending pain lancing down his spine, and before he could push himself off, a hand wrapped around his throat with an iron grip. The demon leaned in close, his breath reeking as he growled in Dean's face. The hunter thought of at least three witty remarks he would have loved to make but the hand cutting off his air supply let him do little more than wheeze as he punched the demon over and over to no avail.

Black spots began dancing around the edges of his vision and he lost track of where everyone else was as his world began to narrow into a gray tunnel threatening to swallow him. The darkness closing in on him was suddenly burned away in a brilliant light and he wondered if this was dying all over again before the grip around his throat suddenly disappeared, letting him gulp down a few delicious lungfuls of cold air. The world came back into focus and Dean found himself looking down at the body of the demon that had been strangling him. When he looked up, it was to find Gabriel smiling in a self-satisfied way that said they both knew full well he'd just saved Dean's butt and effectively rendered them even for the hunter's earlier assistance. "I take it you got your mojo back?" Dean rasped as he rubbed at his sore neck. Between the chain he'd been bound with earlier and the demon choking the life out of him, his poor abused throat was protesting any attempts to use his voice and his words came out sounding thin and gravelly.

"Feelin' better every minute," Gabriel chirped with irritating brightness but his tone flattened to something less pleasant as he continued, "Now let's go find my little brother that you so conveniently lost."

Dean bit back a sarcastic reply and fell in beside the angel as he strode from the room obviously feeling much more like himself now that he was away from his temporary prison. Hezrial dropped into a perfect alignment as well behind his older and more powerful sibling, seemingly unfazed by the myriad cuts and bruises now littering his vessel. Between the three of them, they looked like the victims of a train wreck. "Don't suppose you can magic us all better now?" Dean asked even though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

"No can do, kiddo," Gabriel confirmed as he marched down the hallway with a singular purpose that suggested he already knew where they were headed, "Our _host_ has carved this place up with demonic sigils like a hyperactive three year old with a crayon. You're lucky I could even summon enough power to get rid of that one demon."

"Oh, that's great," Dean grumbled, "so how exactly are we going to defeat this bastard then? Are you planning to just march up to him and ask him politely to leave?"

"We will continue with your original plan," Hezrial interrupted, pulling forth a small jar from one of his cargo pockets.

He offered it to Dean who frowned and bounced the container a few times in his hand. "We're going to fight an incredibly powerful demon with a mason jar full of dirt," he said incredulously. Hezrial nodded with utter confidence having obviously missed the sarcasm in Dean's voice. "Of course we are," the hunter sighed. He sped up slightly to put himself level with the driven archangel leading them. "So what did you mean when you said Legion wasn't the one that caught you?"

Gabriel's face twisted into an angry scowl. "Even a demon that big can't take down an archangel, Dean. No, THAT little surprise came at the hands of my own backstabbing family." Dean's eyebrow shot up almost to his hairline. As far as he knew, all the other major players in the heavenly host were MIA what with Michael and Lucifer still locked in the cage. His unspoken question was answered with a truly bitter snarl from his companion. "Raphael," Gabriel spat, "He always was the one with no sense of humor. It's nice to know that I wasn't the only one you two duped with the holy oil but he wasn't gonna stay in that ring forever and apparently he was pretty pissed about that whole 'missing the apocalypse' thing when he got out."

"So your own _brother_ handed you over to a _DEMON_?" Dean said with open disgust, "Nice family." He snapped his lips shut though and swallowed hard when Gabriel turned a glare on him that said his patience for that particular subject was dangerously thin. He finally worked up the courage to ask the other burning question that had been plaguing him though. "He the one that turned Cas into an extra on Sesame Street too?"

Gabriel actually managed to look a little abashed and he pointedly refused to look in Dean's direction. "No, that was me."

Dean stopped short and stared in disbelief. "Excuse me?" he said with a barely controlled temper. He couldn't have heard that right.

Gabriel turned and shrugged innocently. "What? It was just a joke!" He let out an exaggerated sigh. "We were having a discussion while waiting for you two to show up and he was getting all wound up over me 'redesigning' your room. He kept saying it was childish…so I reminded him who was the little brother here. Get it?" He looked at Dean expectantly as if the joke should have been more than obvious. "He's my little bro, so I turned him into my _really_ little bro?"

"So you turned him into a freakin'** baby **as a JOKE? Cause Sam and I have been trying to keep his ass from getting _eaten_ by _demons_ all damn week. Oh yeah, that's REAL freakin' funny," Dean shouted angrily.

"I wasn't exactly expecting the interruption, Dean," Gabe snapped back, "I wasn't gonna _leave _him like that. I was gonna put him back after a day or two."

"Whatever," Dean said dismissively as he turned and stormed down the hallway again, "let's just find him and Sam and then you're gonna put Cas back to normal."

Hezrial had watched the whole exchange with a slightly confused expression, his head quirking back and forth between the two as if watching a tennis match, and as Dean stormed off down the hallway, he turned to Gabriel. "I agree it wasn't a very well thought out joke," he said quietly in an attempt not to offend his brother.

Gabriel shot him a look that said clearly to shut up. "Everyone's a critic," he grumbled as he turned to follow Dean. The trio made their way deeper into the complex with Gabriel once more assuming the lead as they wound through various dank hallways. Their encounters with demons were rare considering the circumstances and between them they dispatched what few they came across with relative ease now that their strongest player was farther away from the trap. While the sigils were easily subduing Hezrial's lesser abilities, they weren't entirely able to smother the might of the archangel and the longer Gabe was free from his prison, the more strength he regained, though it still wasn't enough to heal them all.

Dean and Hezrial pulled up short as their leader stopped suddenly, his face turned down a long dark side hall that terminated in a heavy metal door. Bloody sigils were scrawled in a maddening swirl of patterns down the length of both walls and Dean felt his stomach clench from the sheer taint rolling off them. Hezrial shifted uneasily beside him but didn't show any other outward signs of fear as his brother took a first tentative step into the hallway. Entering the space was obviously difficult for Gabe but his eyes were locked onto the door at the end and he nodded toward it. "This is it, boys," he whispered with a focused determination, "time to put your game face on." With that, he strode down the hallway and into the darkness. Dean followed without hesitation since this was likely where Sam and Cas were being held but he staggered and gagged as the scent of soil hit him full force the minute he crossed the threshold. It was as if the sigils were trapping the smell within the small expanse between the two rough walls on either side and Dean yanked his shirt up to cover his nose as he pressed on.

Gabriel was the first to reach the door and he glanced back only once to make sure the others were with him before he slammed it inward and stepped into the room. Dean rushed in behind him, soil in hand but he screeched to a halt at the sight that met his eyes. A small crowd of demons lined one side of the room while Legion hovered against the opposite and between them a low stone altar had been erected. Standing at it was none other than Sam himself, his forehead beaded with sweat and his eyes wild with rage and pain. In one hand he gripped a wicked looking blade while a frightened infant angel clung to the other and when he met Dean's eyes, the older Winchester saw no recognition there.


	22. Chapter 22: Not what it seems

**A/N: **First off, let me just say WOOOOOOOOOOOO! Over 100 reviews! Holy crappola! I'm so terribly flattered! You guys are amazing and have made writing this story just so much fun. I find myself looking forward to your reactions to each chapter and it just makes me want to make a better story for you. I have had so much fun with this so far and it warms my heart that you have all stuck with it this far. Thank you soooo much!

Without further ado, enjoy the next chapter. Please bear in mind that much of this will feel a little disjointed and that was done on purpose to try and keep you guys with what Sam is seeing and feeling. I hope you all enjoy it and there's a surprise, as usual, at the end. ;)

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The pain around him didn't seem to have an end. It echoed on forever, caught up in the screams of the damned, and bounced around in his head in an infinite loop like the very soundtrack to Hell itself. By the time Sam opened his eyes again, he could barely make out the world around him through the blur of tears. His body wracked with shudders that scraped his cheek against the rough brick wall he was still chained to. His shoulders ached with renewed ferocity thanks to the fact that he had apparently been hanging from them and thrashing for who knew how long. His legs felt like jello and as Sam tried to put weight on them, the muscles shivered and gave way. He slumped back against the wall and blinked rapidly as he tried to clear his vision. He needed to focus, needed to have something tangible and solid he could cleave to that would keep him anchored to reality for as long as possible. He'd already slipped in and out of his torment several times since Legion had first touched him and each time it was getting harder to peel back the layers of deception the demon had woven around his thoughts. His brief moments of clarity had become precious islands that offered shelter from the sea of misery he was drowning in, however depressing a thought _that_ was. He was still at the mercy of a demon, trapped in a dank room with frigid musty air biting at his lungs, and his muscles were trembling under the brutal task of holding all his weight from just his wrists.

None the less, he considered it a step up from the virtual hell that was playing out in living color inside his own head. He wasn't sure what Legion had done to him exactly but he wished and prayed to everything possible for it to stop. His mind had become a labyrinth of memories, intensified and twisted into something even more nightmarish by the power of the demon. Sam hadn't thought it possible for Hell to be worse than what he'd already experienced but somehow Legion found all new levels to push it to. Sam had been tortured in Hell, had been subjected to torments no human should know at the hands of both demon and angel alike, but at least his torment had been his own. Now his memories twisted and curled in on themselves, mutated at the hands of his captor, until it wasn't Michael flaying the skin from his bones but Dean. He watched in horror over and over as the one person he looked to most, the one person he loved more than life, berated him as a monster while he eviscerated Sam's bowels. He was pretty sure he could live with the physical pain no matter how intense but it was the purely venomous words, wrenched from the darkest parts of his own self loathing, that cut the deepest as they poured forth from Dean's mouth.

Demon. Half-breed. Waste. Junkie. The names were too many to count. Dean called him everything Sam had ever fought against being and more. He had accused Sam of ending the world, of abandoning him, of failing to save him from Hell, and Sam wished he could argue with any of it. Perhaps the worst of it was the all too realistic pain, the utter betrayal, he heard in his brother's voice when Dean confessed that he hated Sam for all that he'd given up so his baby brother could at least try to have a normal life and even in that, he had failed. He knew it wasn't real, knew Dean would never say that, but it wounded him none the less because it echoed all the guilt he'd ever felt in his life. Now as Sam lay panting against the wall, he tried to separate what were real memories from the fake, bracing himself for what he was sure would be his eventual descent back into the darkness of his own mind. He had to keep his thoughts as clear as possible until Dean could come for him. Even _that_ had played itself out in his nightmarish visions to horrible ends. Sometimes Dean would come bursting through the door only to be cut down before his eyes by the demon. Sometimes he would simply stand at the threshold, staring at Sam with utter disappointment written on his face and the unspoken accusation that Dean was always having to rescue him.

Sam coughed harshly and groaned as his raw throat protested. He was sure he had to have been screaming for quite some time and he was pretty sure his voice was all but gone by then. His suspicions were confirmed when he tried to say his brother's name and it came out as little more than a strangled whisper. Still Sam said it. He forced himself to say it over and over as he stared at the brick pressed against the side of his nose. He had to focus on something, had to force himself to remember all the good memories he had of Dean before the demon stripped them all away. He couldn't let Legion slowly drive him to do the unthinkable but the demon had crafted his trap carefully and its lure was hard to resist.

In the realm of his nightmares, Sam could defend himself, he could stop the pain but only if he was willing to lash out against his tormentors and that meant killing his own brother in the dream. He wasn't sure which had felt worse, the pain at Dean's hands or the sudden well of relief when he'd stood over his brother's mangled body, but he knew the danger that lay down that path. It was horrid enough to kill Dean in his own head but he knew eventually he wouldn't be able to tell the difference enough to know when he was doing it for real. It was that terrifying thought that helped him cling to reality as much as possible. He'd immediately resisted the siren call to end his pain through those means but that left him wallowing in agony until he could claw his way back from the nightmares on his own. Each time he managed to do so the respites had become shorter though and he knew he couldn't keep it up forever. It was getting harder and harder to turn away from the tempting idea that it was only killing a thought to kill Dean in his head and killing that thought would stop the pain.

Sam could feel the tug of darkness as it began once more to creep up around the corners of his mind, threatening to pull him under, and he sucked down air like a drowning man as he tried to will it away. Unlike every time before though, this time the darkness obliged and he hung in limp shock at how easy it had been as the world came back into clear focus before his eyes. His unasked question was quickly answered as the door to his cell slid open and Legion oozed into the room. While he was grateful for the chance to catch his breath and bolster his waning strength, Sam wasn't so sure the demon's return was a blessing. He doubted the monster had granted him the reprieve for any _good_ reason. He eyed the demon warily as the creature slowly made its way across the floor toward him, its body turned as it cradled something out of sight against its side, and as it came close, Sam turned his face away from the wall of smell that traveled with it.

"I brought you a present," Legion purred at him, the small voice of a little girl pulling more strongly among the chorus this time, "the key to your freedom and the end to your suffering."

Sam immediately stiffened and turned to look at the demon. There, pinned tightly to the emaciated chest beneath one arm was the tiny form of Castiel. Legion was gently dragging the broken nails of its free hand through the infant's hair in a mockery of affection that repulsed the hunter to the core. Sam raged at the sight, wanting nothing more than to tear the monster limb from limb but he managed little more than jerking uselessly at his chains before slumping back against the wall. He shot Castiel the most apologetic look he could and hoped the angel would understand how much he wanted to do more. Cas merely stared back at him in mute terror. Sam's heart dropped and he tore his gaze from the angel up to the face leering over him.

"Do you want it?" the creature taunted. It peeled the frightened child from its body and held him out as an offering to Sam though the hunter couldn't reach to take him. Castiel struggled in the grip holding him as he reached desperately for the safety of Sam's arms and the young man let out a hollow anguished sound when he found himself unable to reach back.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam rasped hoarsely, trying to ignore the plaintive whimpers the infant was making in his attempt to close the gap between them. He could see no point to the demon taunting him this way, not when it would be so much easier to simply leave him to the pain of his dreams. The act seemed far too childish for a demon of Legion's standing.

"The death of Dean Winchester gains me nothing," Legion rumbled, "it gains you nothing. Take the angel, spill its blood, and you will know freedom and peace. Either way Castiel will perish. Will you subject yourself to further torment?" The creature dangled the angel temptingly close and Cas went limp as he hung from the gnarled hands, his wide eyes locked onto Sam in a silent plea as shivers of fear rolled across his little body. "I will make this offer only once. Next time I return, it will be with your brother and I promise his death at your hands will not be swift."

Sam's mind raced. If he refused, if he let the demon take Cas out of the room, he may never see him again and he would run the very likely risk of killing Dean in the madness he knew would follow Legion's departure. If he said yes, then perhaps he could at least buy himself and his brother some time, maybe even find a way to escape and at least he could remove Castiel from the demon's grip. His decision made, Sam nodded mutely. The demon gurgled its pleasure and wrenched Cas back, shoving him roughly under one arm as he reached for the hunter's chains with the other. Sam tried not to lunge forward as he watched the angel fold back into a tight ball of unhappiness. The chains binding him suddenly gave way though and it was all he could do just to keep from falling over much less attack the demon in front of him.

Sam's arms fell limply to his sides, his shoulders screaming, and he sank to the floor in relief. He huffed a few stabilizing breaths before trying to stand again and this time he managed to stay vertical despite his body's protests to the contrary. Fear, pain, and dehydration were taking their toll on him and he had no idea how long he had been chained to the wall but his head swam with vertigo as he righted himself. He drew up as much as he could, squaring off against the demon but Legion didn't move to hand Cas over the way Sam had hoped. Instead the monster turned and loped from the room, turning to look over its shoulder at the doorway in an indication for him to follow. The hunter let out a frustrated sigh and shuffled after the creature. The thought crossed his mind to try and take Cas back by force but he feared the demon would harm him in the struggle, not to mention he wasn't sure he could even put up much of a fight against Legion in his current condition. He simply had to keep Cas in sight until he could get the monster to part with him, perhaps then he could make a break for it and try to find Dean.

Exhaustion pulled at him but Sam locked his eyes onto what little he could see of Castiel's wings and he used the soothing warmth of their glow to keep him going forward as he followed Legion through the maze of tunnels. He knew most of his fatigue was mental, not physical, but that thought didn't offer much comfort. His mind turned back to Dean and he wished he knew if his brother was ok or not. For all he knew, Dean could already have been killed and Legion was simply playing with him. Sam wasn't willing to take that chance though, Legion didn't seem like the type to bluff, and he knew that his best chance of helping Dean was to play along for now. Soon enough they arrived at a dark passage terminating at a thick metal door. Sigils were inscribed along the walls and Sam's more intellectual nature took over. He squinted against the dim light and tried to make out the individual markings in an attempt to decipher their meaning but the jumbled mix and strange way the designs were swirled together made his head hurt.

Legion led the way down the path and as soon as Sam entered the space, the feeling of pure evil swept over him causing his stomach to churn violently. He stumbled a few steps and finally, after all he'd been through, his body rebelled at this last insult. Sam heaved the meager remnants of his breakfast across the floor and gagged as his body continued to try to empty itself long after there was nothing left to get rid of. Legion barely spared him a backward glance before continuing into the room beyond. Sam contemplated just turning around and trying to escape but a soft cry from Cas had him scurrying into the room to catch up instead. He could not, and would not, abandon his friend. He staggered to a halt at the side of the makeshift altar and looked up into the glowing eyes of the demon.

A shift of cloth and the scrape of shoes on the floor behind him made the hunter turn and it was then that he noticed the small gaggle of lower demons gathered against the back wall. They eyed him with a mixture of interest and anger but none dared approach him, even knowing he was unarmed. He smiled bitterly at the thought that maybe they had heard about his actions in the warehouse, or perhaps his reputation as simply being a Winchester was enough to keep them at bay, either way he was grateful. One portly young man skittered forward and closed the door behind them, sealing them all into the cramped space before rushing back to the side of his comrades. It took Sam a minute to realize that it wasn't _him _they were scared of. Their eyes were all flicking nervously to the creature standing across the altar from him and he had to wonder what it was about Legion that scared even other demons so much.

Sam turned back at the startled squeak Castiel let out when the monster dropped him harshly onto the stone plinth. The angel didn't dare move from the crumpled half seated position he'd fallen into as if freezing in place would draw less attention to himself but he did turn pleading eyes up at his protector instead. Sam's heart constricted painfully at the sight and he reached out a hand to brush reassuringly over his friend's head before a low growl from Legion stopped him in his tracks. He rolled his eyes up to meet the flat gaze boring into him but a small rebellious part of him refused to withdraw his hand away. Castiel dared to bump his head up farther into Sam's palm as he sought refuge from the thing standing behind him but the hunter knew he probably wasn't going to be allowed to pick the infant up the way he wanted and he settled for just offering what comfort he could through the brush of his thumb over the angel's cheek.

The staredown seemed to last forever with Sam tensing as he waited for Legion to make the next move. Finally the monster dipped below the line of the altar and brought forth a few random objects and a long dark box made of some heavily stained wood that looked ancient even by demon standards. He dropped the assortment onto the altar next to Cas and began sorting them out. There was an empty vial, a small opaque jar that was giving off a pungent aroma, and a few dried herbs that Sam recognized as being part of a summoning ritual. Legion popped the jar open and the scent intensified as he reached in, stirring the contents with two fingers. A thin oily green substance that reminded Sam of antifreeze was coating the demon's hand when he finally withdrew it and he turned to the back wall, painting more indecipherable sigils across it as demonic words rolled up from his mouth.

Sam took the opportunity to check Cas for injuries while Legion's back was turned, quickly scanning over the infant though he didn't dare to pick him up yet. He glanced over at the door but the presence of the demons behind him meant he wouldn't get very far if he tried to bolt from the room. His attention was drawn back to his friend when the angel wrapped his tiny hands around one of Sam's and pressed his face against the weathered palm as if that would be enough to protect him. The hunter smoothed down a few wayward tufts of hair and looked up in time to see Legion making his way back over. The demon set the vial down and scooped up another dollop of it, his eyes locked meaningfully on Sam as if daring the hunter to protest as he started drawing more sigils across the angel's skin, his touch causing Cas to tremble violently and cling all the harder to the hand in his grip.

Sam kept his temper in check as much as possible while his mind reeled for alternatives. He had to find a way out and quickly. Time was running out for both he and Cas and soon Legion was going to call his bluff, forcing him to choose between his friend and his brother. His hand twitched as he watched Legion mar the infant's skin with gooey trails of slime but at least the angel wasn't being actively injured yet. Suddenly Legion did the unexpected and a hand shot out across the altar, tangling in Sam's hair and yanking him forward brutally. He wasn't prepared for the onslaught of fresh nightmares that slammed against his mental defenses and he fought back the twisted memories that flickered before his eyes. His knees buckled, cracking painfully against the side of the altar and Legion's voices echoed against the shell of his ear. "End your suffering," the demon crooned.

In a flash the room melted away and it wasn't Legion before him but Dean. His brother's hand tangled into his hair, yanking painfully as he struggled to draw Sam in closer, a rictous grin on his face. "You failed to save me, Sam," the vision growled, "I'm already dead and you're just _standing_ there. You let this bastard kill me and now I'm gonna drag your sorry ass back to Hell with me." The floor below them cracked and split, wrenching open as fires licked up through the crevices. Sam could hear the familiar screams of the pit below them, the growls of the hellhounds, the laughter of the demons, and he tried to tear away. He slammed a hand against Dean's chest, tried to pull away and found himself pinning his own brother down against the stone altar with one hand. A flash of metal caught in the light and he managed to stop his brother's hand as Dean pulled the demon killing knife out and tried to stab him with it. The pair wrestled a moment before Sam finally wrenched the blade free. He pressed Dean down into the altar harder with his free hand as he raised the knife above him with the other but a soft whimper jerked him back to reality like a slap to the face.

He blinked and the nightmare flickered long enough for him to realize he wasn't looking down at Dean but into a pair of frightened blue eyes. Sam snatched his hand away as he realized he had been pressing Castiel down onto the altar and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the vision to dissipate. Sweat tickled down his spine and he shuddered. When he opened his eyes again, he could make out a real knife in his grip while the illusion of the demon blade flickered like a hologram over it. He dared to look up at Cas, expecting to see the angel trying to crawl away from him, but instead the infant was reaching for him again with a devotion that wouldn't be swayed. Even despite the rough treatment he'd just endured, Castiel still believed Sam would save him. The thought damn near broke the hunter's heart right there. It also reinforced his determination that he would NOT be the one to hurt his young friend. Sam staggered back to the side of the altar, the world around him snapping back and forth between a Hell where Dean waited, taunting him with promises of more pain, and a cold dark room where Castiel reached for him imploringly.

He stretched out his hand, ignoring the searing pain as the imaginary Dean grabbed hold of it and casually peeled the skin off. Still he groped forward blindly to where he knew Cas was until his fingers connected at last with soft skin. In his head, his brother leered at him but Sam could just make out a set of small fingers curling around his own that helped steady him against the image before him. Dean snarled and leaned in, pressing his own hand against his brother's. "What are you looking for?" he said mockingly, drawing Sam's fingers against the flesh of his ribs, "You tryin' to kill me or fuck me, Sam?"

Sam fought the urge to rip his hand away. It wasn't real. None of it was real, he told himself. Suddenly a loud crack caught his attention and he snapped his head around to look at the door. His mind went blank as he watched yet another Dean walk into the room and a little part of his mind snickered in bitter amusement that apparently one Dean to torment him wasn't enough. This newcomer didn't mock him though, instead he did something worse. He stared in mute shock. Sam wondered what it must look like to his brother, seeing Sam standing at the altar, one hand against the side of his duplicate while his other bore a knife surely intended to kill him. He waited for revulsion to shift over his brother's features so it was a complete surprise when Dean simply barreled forward and tackled him to the ground. Sam fought brutally, kicking and clawing, knowing full well that Castiel wasn't large enough to be doing this so he was safe in guessing that it was most likely a demon or his own imagination. He tried to stab the blade home but this illusion was stronger than the rest and wasn't dying as easily as the others had.

"SAM!"

Sam instantly stilled and stared up into the concerned face of his brother. Dean was doing his best to pin him to the floor but there was no hate, mockery, or anger in the green eyes staring down at him, only genuine fear and worry. Sam panted as he tried to catch his breath and slowly the fires and howls of the damned faded away, leaving only his brother hovering over him. Beside them Gabriel was holding his own against the demons but he shot them a less than amused look. "If you're done having your 'moment' over there, could one of your two get your asses over here and help?" he shouted in irritation before a new demon lunged at him.

Dean glanced back but was reluctant to leave his little brother's side until Sam forcibly shoved him in that direction. "I'm fine!" Sam gasped out, "Go! I'm fine!" Dean spared him one last uncertain look before jumping up to help Gabriel. Sam turned in the opposite direction to find Hezrial backing slowly for the door, Castiel bundled in his arms as Legion bore down on them. He fought his way up and stumbled toward the trio, knife still in hand, and as swiftly as he could, he placed himself between the demon and the angels. "Go," he said unsteadily to Hezrial, not bothering to look back at him, all his concentration locked solely on the monster ahead.

"He will destroy you," Hezrial said matter-of-factly but Sam waved him off.

"GO!" He knew the angel was probably right but it would give Hezrial a chance to get Cas to safety and perhaps he could hold the creature off long enough for Dean and Gabriel to join the fight. He felt the man behind him hesitate only a moment before the patter of footfalls indicated the angel's retreat down the hall and Sam sighed in relief. He might not have been able to do much, but at least he could buy them some time. Legion growled dangerously at him and drew itself up, its mouth dropping open into an enraged screech that set the hairs on his neck standing on end.

As the demon descended on him though, a low drawl rose up from behind Sam. "You people invite me to the most wonderful parties," Crowley said sarcastically as he stepped out of the darkness and casually tossed a cup of viscous red fluid at their attacker. "Catch."

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A/N: What? You thought I forgot about him? XD Hehehehe


	23. Chapter 23: Death of a monster

**A/N:** OMG, I'm so sorry this took so freakin' long. Some chapters are easy to write, some just WON'T come out. Lemme tell ya, this one was pulling teeth. It just wouldn't get onto the paper right. That, and, well, I went to the Salute to Supernatural convention in Chicago this past weekend so I've spent the whole rest of the week being tired but stupidly happy and haven't been able to focus on sitting down and writing. I shall try my best not to let the next chapter take so long. As always, thank you to each and every one of you who has commented, reviewed, and stuck with this monster of a story for this long. You guys make writing this a joy.

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As soon as the substance splattered across Legion's skin, its many voices rose up and howled in pain, sending it staggering back. The creature's skin smoked as if acid had been spilled over it and the demon pawed futilely at the liquid as it tried to remove it. "What the hell was that?" Sam gasped, turning bloodshot eyes to his impromptu savior.

"Blood of the innocent," Crowley said offhandedly, "To us, no big deal, to him, hurts like hell if you'll excuse the pun."

Sam stared at him in shock. "Blood of the innocent?" he choked out. Any further protests he might have had were cut off however as Crowley shunted aside his concern with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Oh don't get all high and mighty on me now. It was no one you knew and it's the only thing that will distract Legion until we can follow through with the _rest_ of your ridiculous suicide plan. It won't last long though so let's not waste any more time crying over someone whose name you don't even know." Crowley pushed past Sam without another word and headed over to where Gabriel and Dean had just finished off the last of the lesser demons.

Dean froze and blinked at him in confusion but Gabriel rolled his eyes dramatically and threw up his hands. "Oh great. It's YOU. Just when I didn't think this day could get any more _peachy_. Let me guess, they ran out of puppies in Hell for you to kick so you figured you'd come up here and make _my_ life more difficult?"

Crowley offered the angel an overly saccharine smile. "It's a pleasure as always, Gabriel. Do try not to sprain anything in your gratitude for my timely arrival to save your asses. Unless, that is, you had some miracle plan for defeating Legion that I wasn't aware of." He looked around expectantly at the group and then to Dean who sheepishly waved the jar of dirt at him. "Right, I'll take that as a 'no'."

Dean scowled. "Hey, no one asked you to help…"

"No, you DIDN'T, which was idiotic considering how much more I know about Hell than you do, and if I hadn't shown up when I did then you'd be taking your gargantuan brother home in a doggie bag," Crowley snapped. Dean and Gabriel both opened their mouths to argue simultaneously but their efforts were cut off by the enraged shriek of the demon still across the room from them. Every head turned in unison to watch as Legion shuffled forward a few steps, steam rising in thick plumes from the sizzling skin where the blood had spattered. He growled low and angry, an entirely hate filled sound that forced a heavy swallow from Dean.

"You mentioned something about a plan?" The hunter said quietly, his eyes never leaving the monster in front of him.

Crowley smiled knowingly. "What if I told you I know how to kill him?"

Dean perked up at the question and risked glancing over at his unexpected ally. "I'd say if you're screwing with me, I'm going to kill you instead."

"Uh guys?" Gabriel interrupted, "Hate to break this little chat session up but can we skip to the killing of the bad guy part? Cause my mojo is still under wraps till I get outside so I'm kinda limited here."

Crowley smiled from ear to ear. "Never thought I'd see the day that Gabriel, the almighty archangel, would admit to not being able to get it up. Don't worry sweetheart," he patted the angel's shoulder in mock sympathy, "it happens to the best of us."

"Oh bite me," Gabe snarled.

"PLAN? NOW?" Sam snapped incredulously. If he was going to die, he certainly didn't want it to be because of some demon versus angel quip-fest and as he watched Legion stagger around the stone plinth, closing in on them with slow and obviously pained steps, he knew they were running out of time.

Crowley shoved a thermos into Sam's hands. "Hold this," he called as he rushed forward toward the altar. He snagged up the vial Legion had been using to mark both Castiel and the wall and then hurried over to smear a few hasty sigils on top of what the more powerful demon had already done. Sam scuffled back quickly as he wrenched the top off the thermos but his heart sank when he noticed the thick red fluid inside. More blood. He tried hard not to think about what innocent person had died to make this possible as he clutched the thermos to his chest. Legion halted his forward movement suddenly, his eyes going to the container in Sam's grip which he eyed warily, and Dean took the opportunity to bolt around the altar to circle in on his other side. The demon looked between the two hunters but didn't seem overly concerned about them. A swift jerk of his hand sent Dean's body flying backward of its own accord and the hunter slammed into the wall behind him with a pained grunt. An invisible force pinned him there, pressing into his chest with such strength that Dean was sure his ribs were going to be crushed. The pressure lessened to a degree as Sam lunged forward, distracting Legion the best he could.

Again and again Sam sliced through the air in front of him with the sacrificial knife he'd plucked back up from the ground but Legion moved surprisingly fast and always seemed to be just out of reach. The demon was wary of the thermos still in Sam's hands which kept him from openly attacking but the younger Winchester couldn't risk throwing the blood at him without the same element of surprise that Crowley had enjoyed lest he rid himself of the only thing keeping the creature at bay. Sam looked around for Gabriel, hoping the angel could aid them some, but he was kneeling down beside Crowley and whispering in heated tones with his back to the room. The momentary distraction cost the hunter as Legion snapped a hand and sent him skittering across the floor like a leaf caught in the wind. It was all Sam could do to keep the blood from spilling entirely out of the thermos and he ignored the thick warmth that slid over the back of his hand where some of it had escaped. It struck him that Legion could toss them around like nothing but hadn't tried to simply wrench the blood, knife, or dirt from their hands. Apparently there was something about them that the demon couldn't affect, a fact which offered some hope that they might be able to use them as weapons.

Sam stumbled back to his feet and turned on Legion again as Dean wheezed painfully from his position hanging a few feet above the ground. "Little help here," the older Winchester gasped in Gabriel's direction but his plea was ignored for the moment as the angel gestured wildly, his voice raising enough for Dean to make out the words 'are you insane?'. It did little to comfort him about Crowley's supposed plan. He thumped his head back against the wall and tried not to lose his grip on the jar in his hand while he helplessly watched his brother fight the demon below. Sam continued his valiant attempt to keep Legion's attention off Dean but after the third time he was smacked face first into the cold brick walls he decided he was tired of being the designated punching bag. He'd already lost a third of the blood he was holding and knew that was precisely what Legion was aiming for. Since the demon couldn't affect the blood directly, he was forcing Sam to spill it at every opportunity and there was little the hunter could do about it. He'd just about lost his temper with their other two supposed allies who had huddled on the opposite side of the room when Gabriel popped up to his feet and jogged over to Dean.

As soon as the angel's hand closed around his ankle, Legion's hold over Dean was broken, sending the hunter flopping to the ground with an utter lack of dignity where he lay sprawled on the hard floor trying to catch his breath. "About freakin' time," he growled around a cough before pushing himself back to his feet. Gabriel smiled at him as if nothing were wrong and they weren't in a room with a crazed demon fighting for their lives. The look said clearly he'd let Dean fall that hard on purpose and the hunter scowled at him.

"You're welcome," Gabe said chipperly, "Now get your butt over to Crowley so he can fill you in while I go save Sammy from being a wall ornament." Dean hesitated only a moment before the angel forcibly pushed him toward where Crowley was hunkered down and looking decidedly bored by the whole ordeal. Once satisfied that the hunter wasn't going to put up more of an argument, Gabriel turned back to the matter of helping Sam. He winced as he watched the young man get slammed once again into a wall where he wobbled dangerously on his feet. "Hey, asshat. Stop playing with that. It's mine." Legion halted his torment of Sam long enough to peer over his shoulder at the celestial. The demon growled and jerked it's hand to send the hunter flying again but a similar gesture from Gabriel had Sam snapping to a halt after only a few feet. He gasped painfully and his eyes flew wide as he found his body caught in a literal tug of war between a demon and an archangel. It was then that Sam decided being chucked around by Legion hadn't been so bad.

"G-Gabe," Sam rasped, "Not…helping…"

Gabriel didn't even seem to hear him though as he stared down the demon before him. Legion met his glare evenly and a battle of wills began with each being vying for control of the human in their grip. The angel knew he wouldn't last long though with all the sigils draining his power and after only a few minutes his strength began to wane. It had been enough to keep Sam from spilling anymore of the blood though and as his power gave out at last, Gabriel fell to his knees with a smile. Legion turned fully toward him, unable to resist the allure of having the angel seemingly helpless and entirely at his mercy which afforded Sam a chance to dart around and make his way over to where Dean was gesturing for him. He looked back with open concern at where Gabe was still kneeling but Dean whispered quickly in his ear and Sam's face lit up with hope. He hurried over to where his brother had directed him and waited for the next move. He didn't have to wait long.

As soon as Legion closed the gap between himself and Gabriel, the angel rolled back and snapped to his feet. He rushed for the back wall where Crowley was waiting patiently and Legion predictably followed. The demon pulled to a stop as he noted the new sigils etched over his previous work and his eyes grew wide with understanding. Before he could move however, Dean stooped and set the open jar onto the ground. A swirl of Crowley's wrist sent it spiraling into a perfect circle around the other demon, leaving in its wake a thin line of soil that trapped the creature inside. Legion screeched and looked about frantically for an escape before suddenly stilling, throwing the room into eerie silence with the absence of his cries. Slowly he raised his eyes to look directly at Gabriel. "Do you think this will save you?" the demon hissed at him, "How long do you think it will take before I find my way out? We have forever, you and I, and I will never stop hunting you."

Gabriel shrugged like he hadn't a care in the world though Dean could clearly make out the signs of fatigue in his friend. The angel's skin was paler than normal and his shoulders slumped heavily but Gabe was putting on a good façade none the less as he grinned at the monster taunting him. "Maybe, but I don't think you're going to be a problem for too much longer."

Crowley sauntered over to Sam and withdrew a carefully wrapped package from within his coat. "Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass it was to get my hands on this?" He said unhappily to Legion, "But I consider it an investment." He shot a meaningful look in Gabriel's direction and the angel rolled his eyes in irritation before waving Crowley on. It was obvious that the two had made some sort of deal which remained unspoken but Sam didn't have time to ask before a simple stone blade was thrust into his free hand. He held it up and looked at it in confusion.

"A rock?" Dean asked with disbelief. "You said we had the ultimate weapon against this guy and you bring us a freakin' ROCK?"

"That's not any rock," Crowley said indignantly, "It's the very blade, forged from the earth by the hand of Cain himself, that slew his brother Abel and it was a right bloody nightmare to _GET_, thank you very much." Sam raised his eyebrows appreciatively. The sharpened stone in his hands didn't look like much but the sudden note of fear he could make out in Legion's eyes said Crowley had a point. "Now dip it in the blood and do what comes naturally," Crowley finished with an irritated gesture.

Sam carefully coated the blade in the last of the blood he'd managed to save but as he looked up, he focused for a long moment on Dean's face. His brother was staring holes into the back of Legion's skull with righteous anger and as he thought about what Crowley had said earlier, about Cain and Abel, and how much Legion had affected him, he decided it was all the more fitting for Dean to do the job. Worry gnawed at him over whether Legion would simply be able to mess with his head again the minute he got close and so he handed the knife over and smiled tiredly at his brother. "Kill the sunnuva bitch for me," he said softly.

Dean met his brother's gaze for a minute and he could read the fatigue written there. His rage at all that Legion had put them through, his torment of Sam and Cas, boiled up a notch and he took the knife with a curt nod. "Will do, Sammy." When he turned back to the demon, there was a slight smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I told you I was gonna kill you," he said in a flat cold voice and Legion took an uncertain step back. Dean strode purposefully into the ring and barely dodged the sweeping claws aimed in his direction. He dipped low and came up under the demon's arm with an upward strike. With no room to maneuver, Legion couldn't escape the blade as it snapped up into his chest, sliding easily up under his ribcage and sinking in until Dean could feel the cold moist flesh slap against his hand. He didn't let go though and continued to shove the blade as far in as he could, his eyes locked on the demon's face as Legion's many voices rose up in agony. One by one they shrieked and then died, each accompanied by a bright flare of sickly green beneath his skin until at last the final soft voice of a young man gasped out in a barely audible plea.

"I'm so sorry, brother," Legion whimpered. One last spark of green danced under the demon's skin before his legs gave way and a thin but entirely human corpse fell to the ground.

Dean stood over it a little longer, panting heavily and trying to digest all the crap he'd been through that day. Sam's hand on his shoulder startled him back to the present and he offered his brother a silent nod that he was ok. Crowley coughed to get their attention and Gabe turned to shoot him an unhappy look. "Yeah, yeah," the angel said with irritation. He slapped a hand against the wall covered in sigils which flared brightly for a moment and then faded away to nothing.

"Someone wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?" Dean asked.

"A simple exchange," Crowley said, sounding far too pleased with himself. "You see, I brought you a way to kill Legion. In exchange, I get heaven's assistance in making sure Belial stays locked a little further into his cage and out of my way. I told you that the only way the big guy could get out of his cage was with the help of a powerful angel, right? Well, the opposite is true too. A powerful angel can lock the cage a little tighter. I drew up the sigils that would do the deed, I just needed an archangel to sign off on it."

Gabriel wiped his hands together as if feeling sullied by the whole deal and turned his back on Crowley. "Yeah, well, it's done now. Thanks for bringing the knife. Might wanna be gone before I'm feeling better. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find _my_ brother." With that the angel strode out of the room without a second glance leaving a rather peeved looking Crowley in his wake.

"Ah yes, I'd almost forgotten how ungrateful you people are," the demon sulked.

"Yeah, and you didn't get anything _you_ wanted outta this, right?" Dean said knowingly, "This was ALL from the goodness of your heart."

Crowley shot him a smug grin and shrugged but didn't bother to defend his actions. As the Winchesters slowly made their way out of the room behind Gabriel, they could hear the demon whistling happily to himself in their wake.

The trio limped their way through the dank maze of tunnels with Gabriel leading the pack. Dean wanted to take the opportunity to shut his brain off for a little while but something kept nagging at him about the events of the day. Something felt entirely unfinished though he couldn't figure out what at first. It wasn't until Gabriel opened the exit and they all stumbled out into the cold night air that Dean realized what he'd been forgetting about. Gabriel stiffened visibly in front of him and Sam let out a choked noise as they all stared at the sight before them. Hezrial lay in a crumpled heap, face down in the grass, and towering over him was the dark form of Raphael. Castiel was cradled with surprising gentleness in one arm and the infant turned his head to look as they exited the building. He reached out with one tiny hand toward Dean, opening and closing it once in his request to hold onto his caretaker, but he seemed totally relaxed and unaware of the danger he was in. Raphael casually held his sword in his other hand and he looked meaningfully at the trio as Dean took a worried step closer.

"Clever and resourceful as always, Gabriel, but there is no escaping your punishment this time."


	24. Chapter 24: Me Against My Brother

**A/N**: Ok, this chapter was a monster to write. I didn't want to split up the big Raph vs Gabe scene as I think it would have made the story feel chopped so I hope you're up for some reading. This marks the last big bad guy out of the way. There's only going to be one or two more chapters for this that will deal with Dean and Sam saying their goodbyes to baby Cas and then we see what happens when Gabe gets back. I hope this chapter reads well and that the fight is exciting enough. I keep second guessing myself since it IS two ARCHANGELS fighting but I hope it seems realistic enough…you know, for an angel fight.

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The day had been long, hard, and confusing, the final cherry on an already craptacular week and Dean had just about reached his limit. He stood motionless, the night air around him crackling with the unshed power of two highly displeased archangels, and from the corner of his vision he could see Sam throwing furtive glances in his direction in the hopes of getting some sort of explanation. Dean wasn't about to pull him aside for a one on one debrief though, not with Raphael standing in front of him holding Cas and Gabriel standing beside him looking positively murderous. He knew there was about to be one hell of a fight and he, along with Sam and most likely Castiel, were going to be little more than collateral damage if they didn't play their cards right. Sure, it wouldn't be as bad as say Michael and Lucifer duking it out, but Dean had seen just how powerful Gabriel could be and he knew Raphael was an even match if not stronger. Beside him Gabe shifted forward a step and the sword in Raphael's grip turned just enough to catch the meager light, a clear warning that he had the blade out for a reason. "Oh you pompous, insufferable, asshole," Gabe ground out through his teeth, "I always knew you had a lousy sense of humor but _really_? What part of this seemed like a good idea to you? The part where you hand your own brother over to the demons or the part where you set loose Belial upon the world?"

Raphael looked utterly unphased in the face of his younger brother's anger. "The part where you and this traitor are held accountable for your rebellion." He gestured idly at Cas with the sword and Dean could practically feel his heart skip a beat. "You thought you would never be called upon to pay for such a sin? Our BROTHER has wallowed in the miseries of HELL for _eons_ because he dared to rebel yet you and this lowly soldier are not only allowed to walk free in the halls of paradise but are wrought back from oblivion by the hand of our father himself and offered positions of esteem?" The angel scoffed. "What makes you so special?"

Dean swallowed nervously but Gabriel simply rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Well for starters I'm infinitely more fun at parties than the rest of you," he huffed, "But I think you got your facts a little mixed up, Raph, cause Cas and I didn't rebel against _God_ the way Lucy did, we rebelled against _you_ overbearing jerkwads and your ridiculous little plan to wipe out half the planet because of what basically comes down to you being _bored_. And THAT, dear brother, is why we get the penthouse upstairs and you apparently get the world's largest stick shoved up your ass…oh wait, that was already there."

"The Apocalypse was foretold since the fall of our brethren. It is arrogance to believe you can stop it indefinitely. Your interference has changed nothing but the timing. The initial seals have already been broken, they cannot be reforged. Once I have ensured you have been properly punished for your transgressions, I will begin the process of freeing our brothers from their prison once more," Raphael said nonchalantly, "Your rebellion was pointless."

"Wait," Dean piped up, "if you wanted to let Michael and Lucifer back out of their cage then why all this crap about using Gabe to seal them in? I mean, why hand him over when you knew Belial was planning to use Cas to get free and then complete the angel grout ritual anyway?"

Raphael looked annoyed that Dean would dare to interrupt the conversation between him and his brother and he shot the hunter the sort of scowl that had probably coined the phrase 'if looks could kill'. "I was unaware of Belial's change in plan. When this was first orchestrated, the agreement was to seal HIS cage but not until Castiel had been stripped of his grace and cast into the pit. There, Belial would met out punishment to them both for all eternity and Lucifer would taste oblivion at the hands of Michael. He seemed agreeable to this, eager even, to have a chance to scour the two angels of Heaven who thought they could get away with rebellion when _he_ had been sentenced to suffer for the same crime." He cast his eyes pointedly in Gabe's direction. "But as usual, your indiscretion in the use of your heavenly gifts has caused a great deal of upset. I could not have forseen Castiel's change of form, a fact which has, until now, spared him."

Raphael's use of the words 'until now' had Dean shifting nervously, his eyes straying to the sword that was far too close to Cas for comfort, but it seemed, at least for the moment, that the angel was content to merely talk. Dean's mind raced as he tried to figure out how to buy them enough time to come up with some ingenious plan that wouldn't get them all reduced to nothing more than charred bones. He knew he had to keep Raphael talking until Gabriel could recover fully from his ordeal. There was an obvious slump to the angel's shoulders that clearly said he was far too tired still to make this an even fight and if it came to blows now, it wouldn't fare well for either him or the helpless infant caught in the middle.

"I had traced you to the Winchesters' hotel," Raphael continued, "but Castiel's diminished grace was hidden beneath your own. It was faint enough that I unfortunately overlooked it when I helped Legion obtain you. It makes sense now why I could not find him afterward. I hunted endlessly for some sign of him but I was looking for a fully grown angel and his grace was faint enough, tainted as it was with his human host, that I easily missed it." The archangel paused to shoot Castiel a look of utter disgust, his opinion on the infant's form, mingled as it was with Jimmy's human body, painfully visible in the curl of his lip. "Little did I know that Legion had also joined the hunt for Castiel. His repulsive minions discovered the change in our brother first. Once Belial found out Castiel had been transformed into an infant, he saw his chance for escape."

The angel paused and turned to look at Sam. There was undisguised repulsion as he sneered at the hunter. "It is fortunate circumstance that I was able to trace Castiel's grace to the woods of Washington state before you fell into the hands of the demons. Legion was already there when I arrived and I knew then he was also hunting our missing brother.I am not a fool."

"That's debatable," Dean mumbled before he could help himself. Raphael either didn't hear him or chose to ignore the comment.

"I did not realize he had cornered you both and he did not dare reveal your presence to me knowing I was still ignorant of Castiel's condition. Belial knew your _tainted_ blood would allow you to act as Lucifer's stand in. With the sacrifice of Castiel in this form, you would have been able to break enough of Belial's cage open to allow him to consume the remnants of the traitor's grace and thus become powerful enough to drag himself the rest of the way out of his prison. This is something they knew I would never allow. Belial _deserves_ his punishment and to consume the newformed grace of an infant, were it not a sacrilege of the worst sort to begin with, would have corrupted him beyond comprehension."

"Man, for a High and Mighty angel your deductive powers SUCK," Dean cut in again, "I mean, the demons were managing to find us time and time again but you had Cas right under your nose and couldn't even tell he was there all while your angel buddy in Hell was playing you like a fiddle. Boy did you screw the pooch on this one." He knew it was pushing his luck to talk that way to the angel but he also knew that Gabriel was Castiel's only chance of survival and their friend was going to need as much time as they could buy while he tried to regain his strength. If it meant the difference between Cas seeing tomorrow or being skewered on Raphael's sword, Dean wouldn't hesitate to offer himself up as bait, even if it was more than likely to result in his being reduced to chunky red paste soon.

Surprisingly, Raphael merely snorted at him. "The demons kept finding you because of _me_," he said with a note of wry amusement, "In your arrogance you kept reaching out to Heaven for help, thinking you _deserved_ to be helped, and every time you did, I knew about it. Had you been humble for once in your life, I would never have been able to locate you but humility has never been your strong point. I had been under the impression at that time that Legion's orders were to kill you and your brother for your part in Michael's downfall. I happily passed your whereabouts on to him. I did not expect him to take you captive nor that my actions would place Castiel into his hands. It is unfortunate that I did not see my brother's _trickery_ at work before now." Raphael glowered at the other archangel and the stare was evenly matched and returned. "But enough of this. It is time, Gabriel. If I cannot assure your eternal torment, I will have to settle for your swift death. So tell me brother, should I be merciful and leave Castiel to his ignorance before his light is extinguished?"

Gabriel visibly bristled at the mention of Castiel but he froze on the spot as the sword was lifted and held over the infant angel. Dean knew full well that at the rate Gabe had been healing inside the building, he certainly couldn't be back to his full strength yet and he figured that was probably why the whole area hadn't erupted yet in holy fire and lightening. If the look on the trickster's face was any indication though, the fireworks weren't long in coming. Dean's addled mind had yet to come up with a good plan for getting them out of danger in one piece but as he watched the sleek shine of the sword hover over his friend, he knew he would take even the most reckless plan over nothing at all. Castiel was watching him intently, his large blue eyes locked solely onto Dean and every now and then he would reach out a hand in a request to be held though he otherwise remained still in his brother's arms.

Dean shot a look over at Gabe, hoping maybe he had recharged enough to put Cas back to normal but the look on the angel's face made it clear that wasn't an option yet. With a resigned sigh, the hunter took in their surroundings once more and tried to make mental note of anything that might prove useful. He met Sam's inquisitive stare from the corner of his eye and barely tipped his head toward a large grove of trees to their right. Sam shot him a look that said he understood what Dean was asking for but that he wasn't about to flee without him. Dean flicked his eyes to Cas and back and Sam reluctantly nodded. Their unspoken agreement finally reached, the hunters turned back to the tense standoff ahead of them.

Neither angel seemed to have noticed the exchange or, if they had, they simply didn't seem to care. Dean felt a little like a seal caught in the middle of a battle between two great whites. He just hoped he and Sam were unimportant enough to be overlooked in the conflict to come because there was no way they were going to survive it otherwise. "You know what?" Gabriel finally spat, "You're a poor damn excuse for an angel and an even worse excuse for a brother. The kid you're holding has shown more gusto than you've ever displayed in your life and I hate to be the one to say it, but I LIKE him more than you. Now get your damned hands off our little brother and take the ass-whipping _you_ deserve…unless, that is, you don't think you can take me one on one." Gabe threw his older brother a smug lopsided grin.

Raphael glowered at him but his grip on Castiel didn't lessen. "Your childish taunts will get you no where, little brother. It is time you grew up." Dean watched in horror as the blade rose into the air and it felt like time slowed down as it descended toward the helpless child below it. Dean was moving in an instant, worry screaming in his brain that he wasn't fast enough, wasn't going to make it there in time, but suddenly Gabriel's back was filling his view as the angel slammed up against Raphael's arm. The air filled with a bright metallic clang as sword met sword and the hunter wondered for only a heartbeat where the second blade had come from. A glance down at Hezrial's limp form provided the obvious answer though he hadn't even seen Gabe move to collect it. He didn't have much time to think on it though as he found himself skidding to a halt to escape the flurry of swift blows and deft feints being hurled between the angels. His eyes locked onto Cas as he looked for an opening to get between the two and pull the infant to safety. It felt like trying to time running into an open meat grinder without being torn to ribbons.

Cas had curled in on himself as soon as the fighting started. He looked up long enough to notice Dean watching him though and he risked reaching out a small hand for him. "Den!" Thunder pealed across the sky with enough force to shake the ground beneath the hunter's boots and he knew things were about to get a lot more serious but he couldn't and wouldn't leave until Cas was safe. The fighting paused for a moment as Gabriel staggered back with an angry red line sliced from his sternum to the tip of his left shoulder. Blood flowed freely from the wound, spattering in thick red droplets down his tattered shirt but he paid it little heed and didn't waste precious energy bothering to heal it. Raphael didn't offer much of a reprieve either as he sent his brother hurtling backward with the flexing of a wrist. Sam and Dean both jerked back in shock as the already injured trickster impacted with the side of the building and easily blew straight through the brick like it were tissue paper. Dean shook off the image and used the distraction as an opportunity to make a grab for Cas but Raphael saw him coming and before he knew it, Dean's chest felt like it had suddenly imploded. Tight pain ripped across him and he fell to his knees gasping as the archangel advanced slowly. He blinked up through the pain to look up at the being towering over him.

Raphael shook his head slowly and made a patronizing noise in his throat that could have been mistaken for a laugh had Dean believed for a second that the bastard even knew how. "You really should have cut your losses and left by now," he rumbled from above, "did you really think such a pathetic attempt was going to accomplish anything?" Dean tried to say something sarcastic but the words did nothing but burble forth as a thin stream of blood that dribbled from his lips onto the grass below him. He knew the angel had done something, though he wasn't precisely sure what yet. At the very least he was bleeding into his lungs if the horrid suffocating feeling in his chest were any indication but as he looked up into the frightened blue eyes of his friend who, even then, was reaching down toward him, Dean knew he didn't really regret the action. Raphael opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a larger form tackling him from behind. Sam's long arms wrapped around the angel and he drove a knee into the back of the man's leg to force him to the ground where Dean would be able to reach Cas easier. The move was only partially successful though as the angel stumbled a few steps and then easily snapped the grip around him.

Without any weapons to hold the angel at bay, Sam quickly found himself at the creature's mercy, or more accurately the lack thereof. His 6'4" frame was lifted easily from the ground with one hand and chucked a good twenty feet toward the woodline where his flight was halted abruptly but a large oak. The impact knocked the wind out of him and he flopped to the ground in a tangle. The fingers of his left hand refused to move indicating his shoulder had most likely been dislocated, a fact upheld by the intense throbbing in that area, and when coupled with all he'd been through so far, it was enough to have him struggling to stay conscious. He shifted as much as was possible across the leaf strewn ground and managed to get a view of where Dean was still struggling valiantly to save their friend. He almost wished he hadn't. His brother was pale and shaking as he fought to stand only to have Raphael bring him back to his knees with nothing more than a half hearted wave of his hand. Sam could hear Castiel's plaintive whimpers and he battled to drag himself back to his feet and rejoin the fray.

Dean had lost track of his brother after the young man had gone sailing toward the treeline. He tried hard not to think about what had happened to him as he found himself in for the fight of his life. Raphael wasn't content to let him drown in his own blood apparently and a fist like iron collided with the side his jaw hard enough to send him rocking back on his knees. The world spun and still Dean refused to just lay down. Somewhere high above him Cas was letting out soft pleading whines and he could just barely make out the frantic stutter of wings over the thunder that was splitting the sky with growing frequency. "Yuh…you hit…like a girl," he slurred at the archangel. It was little more than sheer stubbornness that had him continuing to egg the angel on but it was all he had to cling to at that moment and it was at least making him feel a little better about getting his ass handed to him by a guy named after a Saturday morning cartoon character. He could just make out Raphael's face as it contorted in irritation at Dean's refusal to be subjugated and that alone made the next hit worth it. He sat up a moment later and finished spitting the grass and dirt out of his mouth, mingled as it was with blood. He'd already thought up a new and entertaining obscenity to call his tormentor when a blur rushed past him and the whole sky lit up with a streak of lightening that bathed the scene in a glare of white.

Gabriel had returned but this time the sword in his hands had been replaced with a large shard of twisted metal. Dean blinked at the strange choice of weapon but his doubt was erased as his friend swung with an arm that would have done the Dogers proud and the metal bar connected solidly against Raphael's head. The other archangel wobbled on his feet, his face a mask of open surprise, but Gabriel didn't let up in the least. He swung furiously from side to side, each impact punctuated with a bitten off word. "PUT. **MY**. BROTHER. DOWN." Raphael took a few quick steps back to put space between himself and his enraged sibling. He crumpled over his right side and blood ran dark and glistening along one side of his face. Whatever Gabriel was using to beat the tar out of him, it was working. Anger flared over the older angel's face and the ground shook violently as he rent the earth between his brother's feet in an attempt to suck Gabriel down and bury him. Gabe merely slammed the rift shut again albeit with a lot more effort than his brother had displayed. It was obvious from where Dean was kneeling that his friend wasn't going to be able to hold his own in an even fight for long but the weapon he'd chosen seemed to have disturbed some of Raphael's calm and the older angel was resorting to more long distance tactics to kill his victim.

The battle raged and Dean scrambled to take some sort of cover where he could to wait it out. The wind screamed in like a hurricane and then Gabriel pushed it aside. Rain broke in a torrential downpour and Raphael parted the storm with a wave of his hand. Lightening danced around the area in sweeping arcs that seared and charred everything around them as the brothers squared off and Dean found himself caught in the middle of the world's worst firefight with nowhere to shelter. His concern was more for the tiny infant pinned between the two warriors though and he knew if he didn't get Cas out of there soon, the angel was going to become a casualty of his brothers' war. Dean wasn't about to let that happen. He clawed his way back to his feet and rushed for the hole where Gabriel had disappeared. He fumbled into the darkness and let his eyes adjust some to the light before he found what he was looking for. Gabriel's discarded sword lay glittering in the light afforded by the storm outside and Dean snatched it up before running back to help his friend.

Gabe was waning fast. It was taking him longer and longer to fend off his brother's attacks and Raphael was growing bolder by the second but Dean charged in head first regardless. He headed straight for the archangel who smiled condescendingly at him and he knew he had to look ridiculous rushing at an angel with no chance of actually winning that fight but winning wasn't what he had planned. As he finally rushed up within striking distance, the hunter dropped to a roll and tucked around one of Raphael's legs and coming up behind him to slam the blade deep his calf. It was all the opening Gabriel needed to close the distance once more and as his brother reeled from a powerful blow to the head, Dean took the moment to dart up over his shoulder and snatch Castiel out of his arms. With the warm bundle pressed to his chest, he tore off for the woodline as fast as he could, determined to put some distance between them and the two battling titans behind him. He careened into the relative safety of the trees, his knees skidding in the mud as he all but collapsed. His injured lungs screamed in agony as he desperately sucked in air but he clung none the less with every ounce of willpower he could muster to the huddled form in his arms.

Castiel shivered and burrowed his face into Dean's shirt as the battle continued to rage in the clearing beyond. A large hand clamped down onto the hunter's shoulder and he started, reaching for his missing gun more out of habit than anything else. As he rolled to face this new enemy though he found himself peering up through the relative darkness into the battered and bruised face of Sam. The young man was cradling his left arm to his chest and he looked tired as hell but he was alive and staring gratefully down at the angel in Dean's arms. Neither hunter bothered with words, Dean couldn't breathe well enough to form them and Sam was just too tired to try, but they both shared a knowing look that said enough. Their lives were in Gabriel's hands now. They were too worn to make it much farther without the Impala nearby and if Raphael came looking for them they wouldn't be able to hide for long as Castiel would easily give them away.

Gabe, for his part, was taking full advantage of his brother's wounds as he pressed the attack. The metal bar was doing a good job of tearing up his hands in the process but he was pointedly ignoring it since each swing was also laying Raphael out in a spray of his own blood. The earth trembled and the skies opened up into sheets of rain as Raphael fought to push his brother away but Gabriel's patience had apparently reached its limit and as he brought the bar down again, the angel below him shuddered and went limp. Gabe lifted the bar one last time but his face crumpled and he let it fall with a dull thud to the ground beside him before sinking down into the mud next to his brother's body. The lack of bright light told the Winchesters that Raphael was still alive for the moment at least. Gabriel looked more tired and sad than Dean had ever seen him as he sat huddled in the rain and mud, his face hidden behind the tangled curtain of hair hanging in his face.

Sam moved as if to go check on the angel but he settled back down as the pain in his arm flared up. Dean was still hurting too much to move and he figured there were some times that a person just needed a few minutes alone. Having to beat your brother unconscious with a metal bar because he'd tried to kill you sounded an awful lot like one of those times. Eventually Gabriel made it back to his feet on his own and shuffled his way down to where the Winchesters sat shivering in the mud. Dean was still laying on his side curled protectively around Cas and he rolled an eye up at their friend as he made his way over. "Your family sucks," he groaned out.

Gabriel chuckled. "You're HOLDING my family," he retorted and Dean couldn't bring himself to really argue that point. One could do worse than to have a little brother like Cas.

Sam winced behind him and looked up at Gabe imploringly. "Is it too much to ask for some angel healing?"

"I'll settle for the unconscious thing," Dean chimed in.

Gabe just shook his head at the both of them. They made a sorry pair what with all the cuts, bruises, and more serious injuries but they had fought their hardest to protect both he and Castiel. "I don't have a whole lot left in me right now guys. I need a break but I'll do what I can. First, let's get the hell out of the rain before my vessel turns into one giant prune." Dean and Sam didn't even try to protest as the angel reached for them and in the next instant they were tucked away in the darkened room of some unidentified hotel. Much of their worst injuries were better, Sam's arm was back in the socket and Dean was already breathing easier, but the angel simply lacked the ability to heal them all the way. "I'll be back tomorrow to fix the rest. Got just enough juice left to drag Raph's sorry carcass back upstairs for a serious heart to heart. You two try not to die in the meantime."

"What about Cas?" Dean grumbled. He still hadn't bothered picking himself up from the floor. It just didn't seem worth the effort.

Gabe shrugged noncommittally. "Looks like you're babysitting one last night. It's not as easy as it looks making that kind of change so till tomorrow, he's staying in diaper-land." The angel dropped to a crouch next to Dean's head, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "And if anything else bad happens to him between now and then, you'll spend your entire afterlife listening to _Enya._" In the next instant he was gone leaving Dean, Sam, and Cas alone in the silence of the hotel room.


	25. Chapter 25: It's not really goodbye

**A/N:** Well, this is about it folks. It's been a CRAZY ride but I've had a blast. There will be one more chapter after this one, a prologue, that will offer some last answers to the question of what all Cas remembers, if anything, from his time as an infant.

* * *

Both Winchesters lay still for a long moment enjoying the silence of their room after Gabriel left with only the sound of their breathing filling the darkness around them. While the angel had healed many of their more grievous injuries, they were still littered from head to toe with bruises and cuts and neither was in any hurry to get up. Dean's skin itched beneath a thin layer of dried sweat and mud was caked around his knees where it had seeped in through a few tears in his jeans. Castiel shifted slightly in his embrace to tuck his nose farther into the seam between Dean's arm and chest. The familiar sensation of comforting warmth radiated out from where the infant was pressed tightly against him and the hunter absently reached up to thread his fingers through the child's soft tangle of hair. "You want the shower first?" he finally mumbled, breaking the silence. His cheek was still firmly pressed against the carpet, muffling his words. He had no real intention of moving any time soon though if he could help it. In fact, sleeping right there on the floor was starting to sound more and more like a fantastic idea.

Behind him Sam grunted his acceptance of the offer. He didn't much want to move from his position where he was leaning against a wide dresser but he felt immeasurably grungy after his time in Legion's clutches and he knew sleep would elude him until he could at least get some of the filth off him. He groaned loudly as he sat up, his back protesting from where a drawer knob had been pressing into his spine, and after a few minutes of struggle he made it to his feet. Everything hurt. Sam shuffled toward the bathroom, grateful at least that Dean was too tired to make any jokes about him moving around like an old woman.

Dean lay quietly on his side for a few minutes after the bathroom door shut. He stared into the dark space beneath the bed he was facing without really seeing anything, his eyes focusing on a small bundle of forgotten lint that was laying against the back wall while his brain finally spun through the events of the past week. It was slowly sinking in that this was it. This would be the last night Cas was going to need him for anything. Once Gabriel got back and changed his brother back to normal, the both of them would probably flutter off to Heaven again leaving Dean in their wake with little more than a backward glance. The thought made his stomach clench but Dean pushed it aside. He had done his job, had done his best by his friend, and he knew the time had come to let the angel go. He couldn't relegate Castiel to reliving his childhood all over again just to satisfy his desire to be needed by someone.

The infant in his arms shifted again and nuzzled up farther against Dean's arm, his little face all but buried in the smelly t-shirt the hunter was wearing. "Yeah, I'm gonna miss you too," Dean whispered, his voice surprisingly broken even to his own ears, "You better get your feathery ass down to see us more often and not just because something's wrong either. I mean actual visits. None of this doom and death shit every time." Castiel let out a tiny grunt as he happily curled his fingers into Dean's sleeve and the hunter let a sad smile curve up one corner of his mouth. It had been a long week but he couldn't say it had been all bad. He half hoped that Cas wouldn't remember any of it once he was back to normal though. Now that Dean had spent the last few days holding the angel while he slept he knew he was going to have a hard time looking at his friend the same way again. The last thing he needed was for the other man to remember being snuggled and bathed as an infant. It would make hanging out decidedly more awkward than Castiel's usual lack of social grace already allowed for.

Dean finally rolled onto his back with a pained hiss before trying to sit up. He looked down at where Castiel was still curled against him and realized that another bath was decidedly in order. The slime Legion had marked the infant with glittered a mucus green across Cas's skin and while Dean wasn't sure what exactly the stuff was, he knew it couldn't be anything pleasant. He peeled the little angel away from his chest and held him up to give him a quick look over just to make sure that the slime was the worst of the infant's problems. Castiel squeaked out a small yawn and stretched in the hunter's hands, his wings flapping a few times before relaxing again. Tiny fists rubbed at his eyes and he let out a soft grunt as he went back to hanging in limp contentment while Dean smiled affectionately at him. The angel had not shown any signs of wanting to sleep since he'd been in their care and Dean doubted that had changed but apparently being mixed with Jimmy's human form for almost a week meant the angel had learned to appreciate the value of a good stretch. Cas blinked at him serenely and he genuinely envied his friend's ability to bounce back so quickly after such a harrowing day. The infant looked as collected as ever now that he was no longer around Legion or caught between two warring archangels and Dean wished _he_ could shrug life and death situations off that easy.

He drew Castiel back in and perched the infant in his favorite spot before finally and reluctantly getting to his feet. A warm nose pressed up under his jaw and Dean swallowed down the sudden tightening he felt in his throat. He really was going to miss this. Sam emerged from the shower a short while later to find them both sitting on the end of one of the two small beds in the room, Castiel still snuggled beneath Dean's chin while the hunter stroked long slow lines across the angel's back. A sad smile passed between the brothers. Sam didn't need to say it out loud for Dean to know he wasn't the only one who was going to miss having Cas around. The pair worked together to clean off the little angel while Cas played contentedly with the bubbles, Dean's hand, and the washcloth and then Sam took his turn saying his silent goodbyes to the infant while Dean was taking a shower. He flopped back onto his chosen bed and settled Cas onto his stomach where the angel propped himself up and offered a brief flick of his wings in greeting. Sam smiled and ruffled the infant's hair, a gesture which Cas gladly pressed up into, and the pair shared a few long quiet moments just relaxing in each other's company.

Sam was already starting to drift off when Dean came back in the room. He smiled at his brother and gestured for him to take the angel. "You're going to have to put up with feathers up your nose one last night, Dean," he said, his voice heavy with sleep. Ever since Legion had died at the hands of his brother, Sam had felt a weight lifted off his mind. The anger, pain, and fear he'd felt brewing inside for the past week had faded away and died and while Castiel's presence was still soothing, it was no longer the lifeline it had been before. Sam knew his brother was going to feel the sting of Castiel's absence much more sharply though and so he was more than happy to let Dean claim him on the last night they would have together.

Dean shot his brother a questioning look but didn't argue the offer. If Sam was feeling good enough again to sleep without Castiel's help then Dean wasn't about to turn down the last chance he was going to get to spend the night holding the child. Cas reached up for him the moment he stepped close to his brother's bed and Dean gratefully swept him up before curling beneath his own covers. "You're lucky I like you," he muttered more for effect than anything. He had a reputation to keep after all and it didn't include cuddling baby angels. Of course, no one was going to know if, in the darkness of their little room, he curled just a little tighter around the infant than he had before and no one would see it if he smiled lopsidedly when Cas wrapped his small hand around one of Dean's fingers. And if no one saw it, he could always claim it didn't happen.

The next morning Dean woke with Cas nestled into the crook of his shoulder, the infant's face pressed against his cheek, and he lay in bed for a little longer than he really should have just enjoying the feeling. Sam was still sound asleep in the other bed and Dean had no intention of waking him. After all his brother had been through he deserved a well earned day off. Eventually the growling of Dean's stomach urged him from the warmth of his bed though and he scooped Castiel up as he slid from beneath the covers. He stepped out into the warm sunshine of a late morning and blinked in the bright light as he tried to gain his bearings. The town seemed strangely familiar and Dean wandered down to the end of the block as he looked for any signs that would reveal where he was. He tucked his coat protectively around Castiel's wings to shield them from prying eyes but he only spotted a handful of people as they moved along through their morning entirely uninterested in him. As he peered down into the next block his eyes fell on a sleek black vehicle sitting in the parking lot of a shabby motel up the street. He blinked a few times and shook his head. "No way," he muttered even as he started in that direction. Sure enough as he got closer he could make out the distinctive license plate that marked the car as his one and only baby. He frowned up at the motel and then looked back at the one he'd just come from.

There had been only two motels in all of Clearview Acres, Idaho. Gabriel had apparently deposited them in the other one. Dean snorted in amusement and risked venturing back to the room they had originally been staying in. The smell of beer wafted up from the concrete just outside the door and the ground was still littered with the remnants of shattered bottles. Dean was pleasantly surprised when his key still worked on the door and he figured check out time hadn't rolled around yet for them. It seemed odd that so little time had really passed since they'd been taken violently from the premises but he knew it had been less than 24 hours. As soon as the door opened there was a blast of cloying earthy scent that wafted out and Dean tensed at the ready but the smell dissipated quickly in the gentle breeze of the morning and the room remained quiet. A small stain of darkness on the carpet marked the spot where Dean had fallen and he tried not to think about just how many hotel rooms across the country had been marred with his blood in the past.

After a little searching about he finally located both the Colt and Sam's knife. Thankfully neither had been disturbed after they left and by the time Sam finally woke, Dean had returned with both weapons, the Impala, and a small bag of fast food breakfast. He had snagged a few packets of honey for Castiel and the trio spent a quiet morning just watching an old football game on the television while eating. Castiel sat curled up in Dean's lap for most of the day playing with the ladybug that Sam had found on their windowsill. The infant was instantly fascinated by the little bug and was happily watching it crawl across the back of his hand when Gabriel finally reappeared looking far better than when they'd last seen him. "Hello again," he chirped brightly, "Hope you three had a good night. Nice to see you didn't keel over while I was gone."

Dean frowned at him. "Yeah, about that. You wanna work your angel mojo now? Cause I'm glad _you're_ feeling better but I've got so many freakin' bruises I look like a _grape_ and Sam over here is so beat to hell it takes him fifteen minutes just to walk to the bathroom."

"Bite me, Dean," Sam piped up indignantly.

Gabe rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, his expression saying clearly that he didn't understand why Dean was bitching when at least he wasn't coughing up blood anymore, and in the next instant both Winchesters were back to the picture of health. For all his protesting a moment before, Sam did let out a sigh of relief as the pain wracking his body faded away to nothing. Angels might be a pain in the ass but being friends with one had its perks.

Dean looked down at where Castiel was still sitting in his lap and he found himself wanting desperately to stall for some reason. "So I gotta ask," he said, his mind reaching for any topic that might give him even a few more minutes of feeling needed, "what was up with the crowbar routine you pulled on Raph? I mean, you got this badass sword thing going on. Why grab a freakin' metal bar?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Remember that star I was tied to? Well Legion didn't pick that out of a hat. It was made out of a very special metal found only in Hell. You should recognize it; it was the same stuff 'the rack' is made out of." Dean shuddered almost visibly and tried not to think about how close to the star he'd actually been while cutting Gabriel down. "Strong emotions can mark things so obviously the metal they use for the torture chambers has been pretty well saturated with bad vibes. Contact with it can weaken an angel to some extent and I knew that my big bro wouldn't be expecting it. It wouldn't kill him but it sure as hell makes for a more productive 'wall to wall counseling session'." The angel smiled bitterly and Dean decided not to bother pressing for details on what happened to Raphael once they got him back to Heaven. Some things he was better off not knowing. "You'll be happy to know our friendly neighborhood pain in the ass Hezrial is going to make it as well. He was pretty messed up but fortunately Raph didn't kill him outright. Gonna be a while before he flies straight again though." Gabe wasn't one to show it easily if something got to him but as he watched a flicker of regret pass over the angel's face he got the impression Hezrial was a little worse off than were being allowed to believe. The archangel didn't give him the chance to press the issue further however. "And NOW," Gabriel stepped forward and smiled fondly at his little brother, "time to give Castiel the speed course through the joys of puberty."

Dean made a sour face. "Dude, that's messed up."

"Yeah," Gabriel said mischievously, "but it's going to be hilarious watching his voice crack in high speed."

It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "I swear to God, Gabe, if you don't just get this over with…"

"All right, all right," Gabe said peevishly, "spoilsport." He rubbed his hands together and poked his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated for a moment.

A thought suddenly occurred to Dean as he looked down one last time at young Castiel but he didn't have time to get out more than a single "Wait!" before Gabe snapped his fingers again and the hunter found himself pressed back against the headboard with a fully grown and obviously confused Castiel sitting in his lap. Mercifully the change had also restored the angel back into his signature trenchcoat and suit, something Dean was immeasurably grateful for, and he wheezed from behind Castiel's left shoulder. "Cas…get off me."

The angel glanced around quickly before finally realizing where he was and that there was a less than thrilled Winchester smooshed behind him. He snapped up off the bed quickly and straightened his coat as he took in the far too amused smirk of his brother. "Gabriel," he growled irritably, "I find your sense of humor disturbing."


	26. Chapter 26: New beginnings

**A/N:** Wow. So this is it. My sincerest thanks to every one of you that has stuck with me through this story. It's been a labor of love and you have all kept me writing when I might have otherwise lost interest. I have enjoyed all your comments and kind words and appreciate your encouragement and patience more than I can say. You've been a wonderful audience and I am so touched that you have enjoyed this monstrously long story. XD

Thank you. *hugs all around*

* * *

In the days that followed the angel's departure from their lives once more, the Winchesters had suffered from no further nightmares. Legion's presence and focus on them had apparently been the cause and now that he had perished, the bad dreams had left with him. It also helped that Bobby had insisted on their getting their behinds back to help him fix his house since the demons had done a fair amount of damage and neither brother had much time to think too hard on all that had happened much less worry over bad dreams what with all the work to be done. The older hunter could guess well enough from the telltale slump of Dean's shoulders when the boys pulled up that Castiel had indeed fluttered off again to Heaven once he'd been put back to normal and he knew his surrogate son was taking it rather hard despite his forced stoicism.

Sam and Bobby had exchanged knowing and concerned glances which Dean caught and promptly bit their heads off for, insisting he was just fine thank you very much. In truth, Dean was more confused than really mad. Sure he was a bit miffed that once again his "friend" had up and abandoned him but he'd already prepared himself for Castiel's hasty departure. He had known it was coming since that was simply how the angel had always been but it was all the awkward glances he'd been tossing in Dean's direction that had the hunter more worried than angry. Cas had seemed a little too nervous in the hotel room once he had been put back to normal by Gabriel, what with his pointed attempts not to look too long at either Winchester, and he had rushed his brother out of the room with the lamely tossed back excuse that they had much to discuss about what had happened. Dean suspected his friend probably remembered more than he was letting on about what had transpired while he'd been an infant. God, he hoped not. Their relationship had been strained on the best of days and he doubted it would really survive if Castiel had to remember being bathed and carted around by he and Sam.

Dean pressed himself into the task of cleaning up the mess around the scrap yard, as much as one COULD clean up such a place, and by the end of the week he had almost convinced even himself that he was perfectly fine with it if Cas never showed up again. He was perched on the roof of Bobby's house just above the upstairs hallway and was working diligently on patching a hole there when his illusions were utterly shattered. He barely had time to register the sound of fluttering wings before the deep rumble of his friend's voice came from behind him. "Hello, Dean." The hunter cussed loudly as he startled and the hammer he'd been working with skittered away across the rooftop. His own boots skidded and he let out a panicked yelp as he toppled backward and watched Castiel disappear behind the edge of the roof. He didn't have time to think anything more than how much this was going to suck as the ground rushed up at him but he didn't impact the way he'd expected. Right before he became a lot more familiar with the rocks of Bobby's driveway than he ever wanted, a pair of strong almost immovable arms reached out and deftly plucked him from the air. Dean grunted as he landed in an ungraceful tangle only to find himself looking up into a pair of bright blue and admittedly vaguely amused eyes though there was no smile to accompany the look. None the less, Dean was positive that somehow Castiel was laughing at him in his own weird angel way.

"Jesus, Cas. What the HELL? You coulda friggin' KILLED me!"

Castiel remained infuriatingly calm at his proclamation. "You weren't going to die, Dean. I caught you."

"That's not the point!" Dean blustered, "What if you hadn't caught me?"

"There was no possibility of that happening. I am more than capable of catching you. Your reasoning makes no sense," Castiel replied quietly.

"Yeah, well…well what if you had MISSED?" Dean yelled. He knew he wasn't really this mad at Castiel for scaring him, hell he was kind of used to that at this point, but he found his anger at the injustice of being abandoned all over again bubbling up to the surface and this seemed as good a way as any to let it out. It was far easier to yell at the angel for scaring him than it was to yell at him for leaving again as then both of them would be forced to live through a chickflick moment Dean would rather avoid.

Castiel slowly raised one eyebrow and Dean could detect a note of exasperation in that look. "If I had missed, which I assure you again is not possible, then I would have brought you back from the dead as I have done before." It was obvious that Cas was confused on why Dean was so irritated and had taken to explaining things in a slow voice one reserved for children and idiots. Dean was none to happy at the inference that he was either. It also occurred to him that he was still dangling from the angel's arms like a disgruntled bride. The realization had him muttering a whole new string of curses as he struggled and wriggled out of the arms supporting him until Castiel had no choice but to set him down, a task he did with all the patience of one dealing with a squirming kitten.

Dean immediately put a few feet between them as he straightened his jacket indignantly. He wanted to be mad at his so called friend, wanted to tell him to get the hell out and just keep on flying, but it was difficult to be angry when the angel was standing there looking so utterly lost and uncomfortable. Castiel's eyes were doing that annoying thing where they focused on anywhere but Dean again and since the angel had never had a problem staring in the past, usually to the point of making everyone _else_ uncomfortable, it was obvious something was up. Dean pointedly turned his back to the yard and its sole occupant and took a few steps toward the front porch. "What do you want, Cas?" he sighed as he leaned against the railing with his back toward the angel. If he was going to stand any chance of remaining angry at his friend then he needed to not look at the guy. Those pathetic puppy-dog looks were killing him and he was starting to think Sam had given the angel lessons at some point.

Castiel shifted nervously within the folds of his trenchcoat and took a long moment to look around the front yard as if seeing it for the first time despite how often he'd been there. It always seemed he was newly fascinated with the strangest of things though Dean got the impression he was just stalling this time. "I…would like to speak with you and Sam," he said at last in the rough growl that was so uniquely his own.

'Oh CRAP', Dean thought unhappily, 'He DOES remember.' The hunter pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to pretend he didn't care what the angel had to say. The last thing he really wanted right at that moment was a long conversation about bathtime and angel cuddling with his now fully grown friend standing right in front of him. Some things he would simply prefer be left unsaid.

The decision was taken out of his hands though as Bobby appeared in the open doorway and drew to a stop at the sight of the angel in the yard. "Am I interrupting something?" he snapped. Bobby had been less than pleased at the thought that once again Castiel had popped right back out of the Winchesters' lives without much of a goodbye or a thank you.

Dean shook his head and let out a bitter sounding snort. "Nah, Cas is just here to 'talk'." With that, he stormed up the steps and brushed past Bobby. "Well get your feathery ass in here and let's get this over with," he snapped over his shoulder as he disappeared into the house. Castiel was already waiting in the study when Dean rounded the corner and he shot the angel an irritated look. It must be nice to just poof in wherever he wanted like that. The hunter kicked a chair around and flopped into it, resting his chin on the tops of his arms as he leaned over the back railing. Sam looked up from the book he'd been pouring over as his brother entered but he started back in surprise at the sight of Castiel standing against the opposite wall. The angel looked decidedly even more awkward than usual as he stared down at his shoes.

"Cas?" the young man asked in confusion, as if he wasn't really sure on what he was seeing, and the angel glanced up briefly before letting his eyes slide away to a photo hanging over the fireplace to his left.

Bobby shuffled in and leaned against the open doorframe. "Someone wanna tell me what the hell is going on _NOW?_"

"Don't know," Dean said sarcastically, "Cas? What is it? Another apocalypse? Gabriel got himself turned into a hamster? Heaven run out of toilet paper? What do you want?" He knew he was being a bit more hostile than was really necessary when Sam shot him an angry scowl but he was tired of only being called on when the angel wanted something.

Castiel shot him a confused look and cocked his head to the side as he stared at the hunter. That was more like it. Dean could live with that. At least Cas was actually freakin' looking at him instead of avoiding eye contact like the plague. "Heaven does not require the use of toiletpaper," the angel said in a voice so lost that the hunter had to bite down a chuckle over it. He had kind of missed the way jokes and sarcasm just seemed to fly right over his friend's head. After a few more minutes of Castiel looking around the room again, he finally seemed to come to some sort of decision and Dean waited with baited breath. He knew whatever it was, he was probably not going to enjoy it. "I need to get something," Cas announced stiffly before suddenly disappearing.

Dean shot his brother a disbelieving look. "Are you FREAKIN' serious?" he shouted, "Ok, screw this." He snapped up from his chair and was about to stalk out of the room when Castiel reappeared carrying, of all things, a bowling ball. That sight, strange and random as it was, stopped Dean in his tracks and he stared slackjawed for a few minutes. All of his anger and frustration melted away into sheer confusion as the angel shifted nervously again and held the ball up for them.

"I would…appreciate it if you could show me how this is used," Castiel mumbled, "I am aware it is for playing some kind of game but I don't really understand it. I was hoping you would show me." He stood there lamely once the words fell out of his mouth, his eyes fixed on the small holes staring up at him from the shiniest green bowlingball Dean had ever seen, looking utterly lost and dorky.

Dean blinked a few times before incredulously asking "You want us to teach you how to bowl?" He couldn't really believe it. It was the stupidest and strangest thing he'd ever heard of and he wondered if maybe Gabe had done something wrong when he'd put the angel back to normal.

"Yes," Castiel said flatly, "I believe that is indeed the name of this particular entertainment." He looked up first at Dean and then at Sam with something akin to hope in his eyes and neither brother had the heart to really refuse him outright.

"BOWLING?" Dean asked again. He just couldn't really wrap his head around the idea. "Are you serious? You…Cas…why the hell do you want to learn how to bowl?"

The angel actually shrugged a little, a human gesture he'd learned from spending time around the Winchesters, and withdrew the ball back to his chest as if suddenly ashamed of it. "It isn't necessary if you don't want to," he said in a quiet heart-breaking way that had Dean scrambling to clarify.

"Cas, it's not that we don't want to go bowling with you…ok, I really _hate_ bowling but that's not the point. What I'm trying to say is…just…well….BOWLING?" Dean floundered for words that would help explain his sheer mental trauma at trying to picture Castiel standing in a poorly lit bowling alley, his trenchcoat fluttering around him and those ridiculous red and white rental shoes on his feet, while he rolled a perfect gutterball amidst a throng of senior citizens. The picture was so utterly ridiculous that it was stealing Dean's grasp of the English language at that precise moment.

"It doesn't have to be bowling, Dean," Cas said dejectedly, "We could watch movies and drink alcoholic beverages and make inappropriate sexually suggestive innuendos about the women we see on the television. That IS what males do when they 'hang out', is it not?"

The angel had actually managed to use air quotes despite the ball still cradled in his arms and Dean had to bite back a laugh at how obviously uncomfortable this whole situation was making his friend. Cas had come all that way just to ask them to 'hang out'? The hunter couldn't help the amused grin that crept up on one side of his face. "So, let me get this straight. You came down here all the way from Heaven just to chill out with us?"

Castiel frowned at the question. "My temperature is not an issue, Dean, but I did come here to see if you would be willing to entertain my company for a while. I have admittedly not made enough of an effort to maintain something more akin to a human friendship in the past." At this last statement he looked straight at Bobby and it was the older hunter's turn to shift uncomfortably at this subtle reminder that the angel had at least remembered some of what had taken place down in the bunker. "I forget sometimes that people have such short lifespans. A year without speaking to someone is not very long for me, Dean. Angels do not age as humans do. I am willing to try to be more available however though I cannot promise how often I will be able to do this. My duties in Heaven must still come first until things there have settled more."

Dean stood quietly at the doorway for a few moments and tried not to let it show just how much that simple gesture meant to him. He couldn't have everyone thinking that he gave THAT much of a damn about Castiel coming all that way just to spend time with he and Sam but it had admittedly lifted a weight off his chest that was larger than he'd realized. He hadn't been so easily forgotten after all. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Ah what the hell," he said with as little excitement as he was willing to allow into his voice, "I guess Sam and I can put up with you every now and then. But no bowling. Where the hell did you even GET that?" He eyed the shiny ball in Castiel's grip.

"An establishment in Sacramento," the angel said innocently as if such a long trip meant nothing at all to him. In fact, Dean was pretty sure it really didn't. "I should put it back then," Cas mumbled before disappearing in a rustle of feathers once again. When he reappeared a minute later, Dean and Sam were already lost in the beginnings of an argument as they tried to figure out what activity they should drag Cas to first. Sam was fighting for a movie or a museum while Dean was insisting on a strip club. Fortunately Bobby stepped in with the more reasonable solution that there was a classic car show in town and perhaps Cas would like to see that instead. The brothers were all too happy to snatch that option up and with their destination decided they prepared to head out for a fast lunch first. Sam rifled through an old overnight bag from their stay in Clearview Acres in search of the demon-killing knife, intent on carrying it with him just in case any new threats popped up. Everything had been stuffed into the bag when Dean had cleaned the old room out and Sam hadn't really bothered digging through it over the past week due solely to the fact that it contained a fair amount of Dean's dirty laundry as well.

Dean's dirty socks had been known to be a potent deterrent to a lot of things both living and non and Sam recoiled as he opened the bag. He tossed one at his brother after uncurling it from around his prized knife and the two swiftly broke into another bout of sibling rivalry as they argued over who should have made sure all the clothes had been accounted for and cleaned after they'd made it back to Bobby's. Castiel meanwhile had become mesmerized by something inside the bag and he approached it with his head tilted to the side and a look of uncertainty written over his face. The brothers' continued argument was utterly ignored as he reached into the bag and withdrew a small floppy rabbit who's once white fur had been heavily stained. The angel thumbed silently over the rabbit's little stitched nose and down one long ear. He flipped it over and stared fondly at the tiny stuffed wings that hung limp from its back, one of which was half torn along one seam. Without really knowing why he felt and overwhelming urge to draw it to his chest and hold it. It took him a few moments to realize the room around him had gone utterly quiet and he looked up nervously to meet the blank stares of the Winchesters. Bobby was sitting at his desk on the other side of the room and when Castiel turned to look it was to find that he too was sharing in the same reaction.

The angel stiffened and straightened to his full height, the rabbit falling to dangle by one long ear as he clutched it by his side. He shot challenging if slightly awkward looks at all three brothers that came off looking more guilty than threatening before suddenly turning on his heel and striding from the room. "I will be waiting in the automobile," he said in a most serious and businesslike tone before disappearing through the front door. All three hunters watched him leave without a word before turning back to look at one another. No one said it aloud but all three had the same thought. Castiel had perhaps remembered more than he was letting onto.

And he had taken the stuffed rabbit with him when he'd left.


End file.
